


Beyond the Pale

by Misha Berry (MishaDerps)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Separation Anxiety, BAMF Wanda Maximoff, Clint and Natasha are platonic soulmates, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jewish Character, Laura Barton who?, M/M, No Incest, POV Multiple, Protective Natasha, Resurrection, Tony Stark Has A Heart, all the feels, ends with stony, starts with Pepperony, who probably bang sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 95,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MishaDerps/pseuds/Misha%20Berry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the Age of Ultron, Wanda is going through the motions, but she can't deny that she's not all there anymore without her twin next to her. When the universe conspires in an unexpected way, she might just have a way to fix that and bring her brother back to her, the consequences be damned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> A few notable things about this fic:  
> -Bruce/Natasha never happened (I mean I'm cool if you ship it, but it was SO FORCED in the movie and it didn't do anything for me)  
> -Laura Barton and the little Hawklets don't exist in this fic (once again, didn't care for this part of the movie)  
> -the safe house/Barton farm is actually owned by Clint's brother, Barney Barton (who is an established character in the comics, though he exists differently here)  
> -like in the comics, Wanda and Pietro are of Jewish/Romani decent (none of that BS retcon that happened in Uncanny Avengers either)

In the weeks after the mess with Ultron in Sokovia, Wanda felt lost. Stark had given her a place to stay, and money to spend (handing her a card and the bank account attached to it, newly made and filled with more money than she could spend in a lifetime), while the other Avengers had done their best to make her feel welcome and forgiven. For the first time in her life, she had a real home and enough resources to take care of herself, and she was alone. There was an empty place beside her, and no amount of money or comfort would fill it. A piece of her was gone, snatched away without ceremony.

After the battle, she had seen Pietro’s body, laid out with care on a bed intended for the injured. Seeing him like that had nearly sent her spiraling backwards into the darkness that threatened to swallow her. The Captain had noticed in time and taken her out of the room.

“I’m sorry.” he said, as though he had anything to apologize for, “Is there anything I can do?”

Wanda stared up at him, almost not comprehending what he was asking her, “I— I don’t know.” she said. She had never needed anyone to ask her that before. Pietro had always been there to bring her back from the edge, naturally knowing what she needed without ever needing to be asked.

After that, she sort of drifted for a while, going through the motions without absorbing her surroundings. It wasn’t until the funeral that it all came rushing back. She blasted the chairs laid out on the grass and let out a scream, startling the others around her. The Captain wrapped her up in a blanket and pulled her away to calm down. She didn’t visit the graveyard where Pietro was buried again.

When they moved into the new Avengers compound, she didn’t really have anywhere else to go, anything else to do. She figured she might as well, so she stayed with them, trained with the new team, and ignored the gaping wound that was the empty place beside her.

She was in one of the training rooms, several months after the battle with Ultron, when the Captain approached her, face severe but kind. He motioned her over with a hand.

“Wanda?” the Captain asked her, “Can I speak with you?”

Wanda raised an eyebrow and floated down back to the ground; she had been practicing flying and lifting other things, which was difficult, “Yes sir?” she asked.

“I’m off duty right now, you can just call me Steve.” he said, smiling at her. He was out of uniform, so she supposed it made sense.

When she didn’t say anything else, he coughed and continued, “I know you said you wanted to join the Avengers Initiative, but . . . If you need to take some time off, we’d understand.”

Wanda felt her gut twist painfully, “You want to kick me off the team?” she asked.

“No no, of course not.” Steve said, making an abortive movement with his hand, like he wanted to touch her, “It’s just that you’ve suffered a trauma, and we’d all understand if you wanted to take some time to— to mourn.”

Wanda had to close her eyes against the pain at her side, the wound making its presence known, “I’m fine, I’m better this way.” she said, “I need to do something.”

Steve nodded in understanding, “I know the feeling.” he said, “After I came out of the ice, I wanted to be busy. I wanted a distraction from everything I had lost.”

Wanda sucked in a breath, remembering belatedly the loss that the Captain had suffered while being a hero, like she and her brother had tried to be. She suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.

Steve smiled down at her and gently put his hand on her shoulder; she was so much smaller than he was that it was almost comical, “It’s okay to grieve.” he told her, “We won’t be disappointed, we won’t be mad, we just want you to be okay.”

Wanda felt her emotions rush up to the surface, nearly overtaking her. She held back the tears and stepped back, away from the comforting hand, “I’m fine.” she lied, “Excuse me.” she brushed past him and walked quickly down the hall.

When she got to her room, she threw herself down on the bed and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the pulsing darkness around her, calling to her and demanding that she pay attention to it. She clutched her chest and tried to forget everything but the pounding of her own heart.

 

* * *

 

“You’re worried about her.” Natasha said, leaning against the counter while Steve glared down at the coffee he’d just poured like it had personally insulted his family.

“How could you tell?” he snapped, snatching up the coffee and taking a sip. It burned his mouth and he winced, thinking about instant karma, “Sorry, yes, I am.”

Natasha nodded and waited for him to go on, “She’s hardly eating.” he said, “She barely sleeps. I haven’t seen her cry since the funeral. She’s more of a robot than Vision.”

“She’s grieving.” Natasha said, “Everyone reacts to it differently.”

“I know that, but I’m worried.” Steve said, taking another sip of coffee, “She’s only barely functioning, and it’s dangerous to the team. Taking her out in the field now would probably end in disaster.”

Natasha nodded, “I agree. Maybe you should bench her.”

Steve sighed, “I suggested she take some time off to mourn, but she refused. She said it’s better if she continues this way. She wants to be distracted.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, “What we do can’t be a distraction.” she said, “That’s a sure way to get yourself killed.”

“I know, but I can’t say that to her.” Steve groaned, rubbing his eyes, “It’s so harsh.”

“I can try talking to her.” Natasha offered, laying a hand on Steve’s bicep, “She might react better to me.”

“You think so?” Steve asked.

Natasha shrugged, “Maybe. Girls tend to react better to older women than they do to older men. It’s a safety thing.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “She doesn’t feel safe around me?”

“She probably feels safe, but she might feel safer around me.” Natasha said, “There’s a whole lot of psychological shit that I could get into, but you’ll get bored.” she said. She grinned, “Sorry, I meant psychological _stuff_.”

“You know.” Steve glared at her, “That’s starting to get really old.”

She laughed and patted his arm, “Only for you.”

 

* * *

 

“Miss Maximoff? Shouldn’t you eat something?”

Wanda looked up into Vision’s concerned face. She gave him a small smile, “I’m fine.” she insisted, “Not hungry.”

Vision frowned; he was the one person(?) in her life now that she felt like she had a connection to. Maybe it was because they were both out of their depth in this strange world of Avengers and aliens and Gods, despite being deeply entrenched in it, whether by the choices they made (Wanda) or being born into it (Vision).

“In the time that I have known you, you have dropped from approximately sixty-four kilograms to approximately fifty-four kilograms.” Vision said, “I have observed you eating fewer times than the other Avengers and other humans here. When I do observe you eating, it is less than the recommended daily intake of calories.” he looked pointedly at her full plate of food that she had been staring at, “You should eat something.” he insisted.

Wanda looked down at her plate; she didn’t particularly want to eat, but she also didn’t think she would feel sick if she did eat. Slowly, she picked up her fork and skewered a carrot, bringing it to her lips. She repeated the motion mechanically until her plate was empty. She didn’t feel sick, or full. She felt exactly the same as she had when her plate had been full. She looked up at Vision; he had watched her the entire time, tracking her movements. Seeing that she had eaten the required amount of calories, he left her alone.

Wanda left her plate in the sink and returned to her room. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out the blackness at the edge of her perception. Natasha had taught her about meditation and focusing her energy, so she settled down on the floor to get ready.

A knock at her door brought her out of her mind. She stood and opened her door to see the red headed woman standing on the other side, “Can I help you?” Wanda asked.

“May I come in?” Natasha asked, keeping her face impassive. Professional.

Wanda quirked an eyebrow and stood aside, letting her cross the threshold and enter her room. It was more like an open-floor mini-suite, with a bedroom off to the side and a living space and kitchen in the other corner. She even had her own bathroom and a large closet, though she hardly had anything to put in it. She didn’t have much of anything, despite all of the money Stark had given her to spend; just some generic chairs that had come with the room and the bed that had also come with the room.

Natasha sat down on the off-white sofa and waited for Wanda to take a seat. She sat down on one of the other chairs, facing Natasha. The red headed woman leaned forward and stared into her eyes, making sure she had her attention.

“You’re a liability to the team.” she said, calm and slow, ensuring that Wanda understood her.

Wanda felt like she had been punched in the gut, “What?” she asked, heart thudding in her chest.

Natasha sighed; Wanda could feel the sadness emanating from her mind, “Wanda.” she started, “I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to take time off to grieve for your brother. I know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not going to work.”

Wanda wanted to shout and scream and throw this woman out of her living space, but she was frozen where she was, watching this woman in front of her drag her trauma’s out into the light for all to see.

“You want to use your work as a distraction, but it’s unhealthy, and not to mention dangerous, both for you and for your teammates.” Natasha explained, “So until Captain America and I both agree that you’re fit to return to active duty, you’re going to be on an extended leave.”

“You can’t!” Wanda shouted, suddenly finding her voice, “You can’t punish me, I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Wanda.” Natasha said, “You’re not being punished. You’re being given time to _heal_. An emotional wound can be just as devastating as a physical wound.”

“Shut up! You have no idea!” Wanda shouted, shaking her head, “I can’t stop! If I stop it becomes too much!”

Natasha stood and stepped closer; Wanda hadn’t noticed that she herself had stood. She shook her head again and clutched her head, forcing the darkness away, ignoring the wound at her side. She couldn’t look at it, not for a second, or it would swallow her whole.

“Wanda.” Natasha called her, “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to get through this. You’re strong.”

Wanda sobbed, and suddenly she couldn’t hold it back. Tears fell down her cheeks in salty rivers and her breath came in short gasps. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, choking on her sobs. Natasha fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her back.

“It’s alright.” she said in Sokovian, her accent off, like her brain is trying to speak Serbian, “You’re strong. You’re going to be okay.”

“How?” Wanda wailed, clinging to the other woman, “How will I ever be okay? How can I live alone?”

“You will because you have to now.” Natasha said, rubbing her back, “Oh solnyshka, I know how hard it is, but you’ll face it because you’re strong.” she said, “And you’re not alone. We are all here for you.”

Wanda sobbed and cried for what seemed like hours, clinging to the older woman and taking comfort in her warmth, in the proximity of her mind. She felt others come close and then leave, but she paid them no mind. All she knew for now was that she was hurting and nothing could stop it. She would always hurt and there would always be an open wound at her side where her brother should be.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Wanda knew, she was waking up in her bed, eyes stinging and throat hoarse. She coughed and rolled over, tugging the blankets around her shoulders. Footsteps told her that Natasha hadn’t left.

“Here.” she said; Wanda turned around and she was offering her a glass of water. Gingerly sitting up, she took the glass and gulped down the liquid. Natasha sat down on the bed and reached over with a cloth, rubbing gently at her eyes. The stinging lessened a little and she sighed.

“Thank you.” she said, “I’m sorry.”

Natasha sat back, “You don’t have to apologize.” she said, “And you’re welcome.” she got up and took the glass to the sink.

Wanda lay back down and pulled her blanket over her shoulders, “I think I will sleep tomorrow.” she said. She hadn’t been sleeping much and she could feel how tired she was for the first time in a long time.

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure that someone brings you something to eat.” Natasha said.

Wanda offered a small smile as thanks and rolled over. The wound throbbed, just as painful as ever, but the darkness had receded just a little, enough for Wanda to close her eyes and slip into fitful slumber.

 

* * *

 

Tony Stark tried not to go through life apologizing. He had a lot to apologize for, and if he started he would never stop. So instead he deflected, threw money around, or built something by way of apology. Not exactly good for forming interpersonal relationships, but no one who knew him even a little would say that he had ever been _personable_.

This had been his reasoning behind giving the Maximoff girl her own bank account filled with a couple million (nothing to him, but probably more money than she had ever seen in her life). He knew that the weapons used in the attack on her home had been legitimately bought, since Sokovia wasn’t an enemy of the United States, but it still twisted his chest with guilt. Even more than that, the entire thing with Ultron had been his fault again, and therefore he had indirectly been the one to get her brother killed. He knew that it was pointless to blame himself, and that money wouldn’t truly make up for it, but he tried his best, and he had to be content with that.

“Boss, Dr. Cho is calling.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., put her through.” Tony said. He still wasn’t used to hearing F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice come through the speakers instead of J.A.R.V.I.S., but he was more used to it than he was hearing Vision speak in the voice of his closest companion.

“Mr. Stark?” Dr. Cho’s face appeared on the screen, “Are you there?”

“Right here. Hi Helen.” Tony said, grinning into the camera, “What can I do for you?”

Helen looked a little peeved, “You can start by sending back my Cradle.” she said.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“My Cradle!” she insisted, “You said you’d fixed it weeks ago, but it still hasn’t arrived at my lab.”

Tony pulled up the records and security footage, “I sent the Cradle back two weeks ago.” he said, “I’ve even got the shipping receipts to prove it, look.”

He tapped the screen and her phone beeped. She glanced down at it and scrolled through what he had sent her, “That’s . . . odd.” she said, furrowing her brow.

“My thoughts exactly. Hang on, I’m going to see if I can trace the package number.” Tony tapped a few more things on his screen, pulling up a map showing the trajectory of the Cradle. Everything was normal, showing that it should have arrived five days ago in Seoul, “Seems normal, but I don’t think you would have missed something like that. F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you check for any irregularities in the tracking system?”

“Hold on a moment.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, going quiet as she scanned the numbers, “Nothing appears out of the ordinary, but there was a twenty-four hour delay after the package arrived in Japan that doesn’t seem to have any reason for being there.”

Tony and Helen gave each other a look over the screens. Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes, “I’ll look into it, see if I can’t shake anything loose.”

Helen nodded, “I’ll ask around on this end, see if anyone has heard any rumors. Be careful Mr. Stark.”

“You too, Dr. Cho.” Tony said. He ended the call and immediately began tapping away at his screens, trying to find out who or what had tampered with the shipment and taken the Cradle, “Knew I should have flown it myself.” he grumbled.


	2. Mission Statement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the exposition bits a little, but we're getting into the plot. You'll notice that Clint doesn't have a wife or kids, like I said, but I changed a bit of his brother's story to fit into the movieverse. Instead of losing touch with each other when Barney joined the military, they stayed fairly close, enough so that Clint felt like he could use his brother's farm as a safe house during AoU.  
> You also might notice a few lines that go directly back to Matt Fraction's run of the Hawkeye title, and I included some of the self-worth questioning on Clint's part here, to beef up his reasons for leaving in this fic (in the movie, he leaves because he wants to be with his family, but that doesn't really fly if there's no family to speak of, so I'm improvising).

Steve had just finished his run when his phone went off in his pocket. He fished it out and smiled when he saw who was calling. He tapped the screen and held it up, “Hey Tony, what’s up?”

“The Cradle was stolen.” Tony said, not bothering with pleasantries.

Steve frowned, “Dr. Cho’s Cradle? I thought you fixed that ages ago?”

“I did, then I sent it back, but it never got there.” Tony said, “It was intercepted in Japan by an unknown party.”

“You think it might be Avengers business?” Steve asked, pinning the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he poured himself some juice.

“Could be. Signs point to possible A.I.M. involvement.” Tony said, saying ‘A.I.M.’ like it was something that you scraped off the bottom of your shoe.

“Damn.” Steve cursed, “If you send me whatever information you’ve got, I can send a team to gather intelligence.”

“Yeah that’s what I was thinking.” Tony said, sounding tired, “I’ll try to keep a line free in case you need help with A.I.M., they’re a tricky bunch.”

“Yeah, I heard about what happened when you tussled with them.” Steve said, wincing a little. He’d been on a mission for the duration of the fiasco in Malibu, but it had still been all over the news by the time he got back.

Tony hummed and there was a shuffle over the phone, “Anyway, I emailed everything F.R.I.D.A.Y. and I managed to gather so far to you and to Natasha. I’ll keep looking into it and I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”

“Thanks Tony.” Steve said. They exchanged their goodbyes and then hung up. Steve put his phone down and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He finished his juice and went to shower and change.

It looked like they had a mission.

 

* * *

 

Ever since Wanda’s breakdown in front of Natasha, she hadn’t left her suite. It had been a few days, but she didn’t feel like facing anyone just yet. Her days were filled with crying, meditating, and trying not to think about the wound. Natasha would drop in daily, usually with food, to see how she was doing. It wasn’t much, but it helped a little.

Today, when there was a knock at the door, Wanda fully expected Natasha to be there. However, when she opened the door, it was Sam Wilson instead.

“Sorry, I know you were expecting Nat, but she got called away.” Sam said, “I brought you some lunch though.” he said, smiling and holding up the tray of food.

Wanda looked up at him, shifting a little on her feet, “Thank you.” she said softly.

Sam smiled brighter and waited for her to take the tray, “I’m not sure what you like, so I got you a BLT.” he said.

Wanda tilted her head, “Bee-el-tee?” she repeated.

“Bacon lettuce tomato.” Sam explained, “You never had one?”

She wrinkled her nose, “I don’t eat bacon.” she said.

“What why not?” Sam mock gasped, obviously trying to get her to laugh.

“Jewish.” she answered. She and her brother hadn’t always been able to observe, and there were times that pork had been all there was to eat, but it was still a part of them, and they tried wherever they could.

“Shit.” Sam grumbled, glaring down at the tray like it was the sandwich’s fault, “I’ll be right back with something different, okay?”

Wanda nodded and he started to walk away, then he stopped, “Or you could come and choose something yourself if you like? That way I won’t accidentally get something you don’t like.”

Wanda knew what he was trying to do, she could see it from a mile away, even without delving into his mind. Still she hesitated closing the door on him. She wrapped her arms around her body, “Give me a moment.” she said.

Sam nodded and waited as she disappeared into her suite. She quickly put on some presentable clothes and stepped out the door. He smiled softly at her and they walked in silence, side by side, to the kitchen. Sam set the tray down on the counter and wrapped up the sandwich to put it in the fridge for later. He shuffled through the shelves.

“Let’s see what we got. You like Mexican food? There’s always so much leftover Mexican food and I have no idea why. We got salad, always lotsa salad. Um, let’s see . . . hey there’s pizza leftover! Who doesn't like pizza?” Sam said, pulling out the box and grinning at her, “Three cheese medley. That good?”

Wanda nodded, not having the heart to tell him that she’d never tried pizza. She hadn’t tried a lot of food, actually. She hardly remembered what meals her parents had cooked for her, and after that she and her brother had been in the orphanage, then the streets, where food was what you could beg or steal or find. When they had signed up for Strucker’s experiments, their meals had been carefully regulated and controlled to their specific needs. She’d eaten more diversely since joining the Avengers than she had at any other point in her life.

Sam put a couple slices onto a plate a popped it into the microwave to heat up. He leaned against the counter and smiled at her, “So how are you?” he asked, polite and friendly.

Wanda pulled at the frayed threads of her shawl, “Fine.” she lied.

“Good.” Sam said, “We’ve missed you at training, but it’s good that you’re taking some time to yourself.” he said.

She quirked an eyebrow at him and he smiled kindly, “When I came home from overseas, I wanted to just get back into it to, yaknow?” he said, “But a couple friends of mine saw how ragged I was getting and basically locked me in my bedroom until I agreed to rest and recuperate.” he paused to laugh, “Sometimes we don’t realize how much we’re hurting ourselves when we’re in pain.”

Wanda looked up at him; the microwave dinged and Sam handed her the plate of warm pizza. She took it and stared down at it. It certainly smelled good, but she wasn’t sure about the grease. Still, she sat down at the little table and ate everything on her plate under Sam’s watchful eye. He talked to her throughout, but she hardly listened. When she was finished, she pushed her plate away.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” she said, stopping him in the middle of his sentence, “I appreciate it, but you have no idea what you are speaking about.”

Sam frowned, “That’s a little harsh. I think everyone here can understand losing a loved one—”

“A loved one, yes, but Pie— my brother, was more than that.” Wanda cut him off, “He was my constant, my _twin_. From the exact moment of our conception, he was there with me. We were never parted in all our lives. When I had nothing I had him.” she leaned forward to stare hard into his eyes, her own flashing red for a moment, “And now I must live without that constant. So no, you do not understand. I have not lost a loved one. I lost my loved ones when I was ten years old. I have lost my soul, Sam Wilson.” she stood up and took her plate, “Thank you for the pizza.”

She walked away and put her plate in the sink before walking back to her suite. As she walked down the halls, she saw a flash of red hair duck into one of the meeting rooms scattered around the compound. Remembering what Sam had said about Natasha being called away, she narrowed her eyes and slipped toward the door through which the other woman had disappeared. It took only a small amount of power to shield herself from the eyes of others, allowing her to eavesdrop.

“—sure that it’s A.I.M.?” came Colonel Rhodes’ voice, “I thought they disbanded when Tony nixed their leader?”

“Apparently not.” that was the Captain, “And all signs point to A.I.M., as far as Tony can tell.”

“It certainly fits their M.O., stealing tech and covering their tracks.” there was Natasha, “Do you have any idea where the Cradle was taken?”

Wanda blinked; she remembered that Stark had the Cradle and had been fixing it for Dr. Cho after Vision’s rather violent birth. It had been stolen? By something called Aim? What for?

“There are a few leads. Most point toward somewhere in either Central Asia or South Asia, but Tony is still running F.R.I.D.A.Y. over more possibilities.” the Captain said, “He’s going to let us know in a few hours some more exact locations, hopefully.”

Colonel Rhodes grumbled, “For a guy who’s retired from the caped crusader gig, he’s sure putting in a lot of hours.”

That earned a chuckle from the others in the room, “Still, are we sure this is an Avengers issue? Have the authorities been contacted?” Natasha asked.

“We’ve notified the appropriate parties, but there isn’t much they could do against a group like A.I.M.. There’s even talk that A.I.M. and whatever’s left of Hydra are collaborating on something.” the Captain said.

“That doesn’t sound good. Yeah, I vote we get involved before this becomes another ‘shit-shit-shit-the-world-is-ending’ event.” Colonel Rhodes said.

“I don’t think it’s that bad, but I agree we should look into it.” the Captain said, “For now we’ll send a stealth team to follow a few leads and see what can be dug up. I’m recommending Falcon, Vision, and you, Black Widow.”

“What about Scarlet Witch? If we’re gathering intel, a mind-reader sounds like an ideal teammate.” Colonel Rhodes said.

From where she was sitting, Wanda could just see Natasha shake her head, “Not a good idea. Wanda isn’t functioning at her best right now. We voted that she step down from active duty until she’s feeling better.”

“Still upset about her brother. Yeah I get that.” Colonel Rhodes said, and Wanda wanted to slap him for how flippant he sounded, “But are we sure we want Vision along? He’s a bit noticeable.”

“Vision can phase through walls and has a unique relationship with the Cradle.” the Captain said, “We’re hoping that it will come in handy. He’s also going as backup in case Widow and Falcon need some muscle.”

“Still, kind of hard to miss a six foot tall robot with red skin and a bright yellow cape.” Colonel Rhodes said.

“I don’t think he’s a ‘robot’. Tony said something about him being an ‘android’?” the Captain said, “Anyway, we’re getting off track. Black Widow will lead the mission and check in at regular intervals. You leave in three hours.”

“Understood.” Natasha said. As they made for the door, Wanda scrambled back and walked briskly down the hall, hoping that she wasn’t noticed.

“Wanda?” Natasha called. Wanda froze and turned to face the other woman, who was making her way over.

“I’ve just got a mission, and I’m going to be away for a while.” she said, “I’ll try to check in with you if I can.”

Wanda blinked, unsure of why Natasha was telling her this herself when announcements like this were often given by the Captain to everyone at once. The faintest use of her powers revealed that Natasha was worried about her. Wanda might have been offended at being treated like a child had she not caught the undercurrent of maternal protectiveness radiating off of her. The older woman cared for her, for some reason. Unsure of what to do, Wanda simply nodded and waited for her to make the next move.

Natasha smiled kindly at her, “Have you eaten today?” she asked.

“Yes, Sam gave me pizza.” Wanda said, “I’ve never had it before now.”

“Did you like it?”

Wanda shrugged, “I suppose so.” she couldn’t recall the taste, now that she thought about it.

“Well, don’t overdo it with the junk food. It’s not good for you.” Natasha said, “Are you going back to your suite?”

Wanda glanced down the hall, “I suppose.” she said vaguely. There wasn’t anywhere else for her to go.

As if sensing her indecision, Natasha suggested that she take a walk around the grounds. Wanda had spent most of her life in cities, rarely venturing out into rural areas, so she was hesitant to wander the forested grounds of the Avengers Compound, something that Natasha seemed to have picked up on.

“The fresh air will do you some good.” Natasha insisted, “I can get you a map of the trails if you like.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Wanda said, “I think I would like to figure it out myself.”

Natasha nodded and the conversation stagnated for a moment. Slowly, Natasha laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, something Wanda was sure meant to comfort. Wanda gave her a small smile and they parted ways. With a goal in mind, Wanda put the missing Cradle from her mind.

 

* * *

 

When Clint Barton had entered the whole ‘super hero’ gig, it was mostly out of a desire to beat the shit out of the guy who’d put the mind control whammy on him. He hadn’t really expected it to morph into anything beyond that, but when S.H.E.I.L.D. had nosedived into the pavement, he’d just sort of found a niche with the other ‘super’ heroes and rolled with it. It had helped that his long-time partner was already running with the leader of the supposed ‘team’, giving him an in.

Still, it was easy to see the weak link in the chain when the Avengers lined up to take out baddy-of-the-week. Try as he might, he wasn’t a super soldier like Cap, a billionaire genius with a high tech suit of armor like Stark, a gamma powered smash-machine like Bruce, a super assassin trained from childhood like Nat, or a freaking God like Thor. He was an orphan raised by carnies fighting with a stick and string from the Paleolithic era.

Paleolithic. He looked it up.

So when it looked like Wanda and Vision were signing on as permanent members, along with Sam and Rhodes, Clint had packed his bags and went back to his brother’s farm to figure his shit out. Maybe he’d find a girl, get married and pop out a couple kids, or go back to the circus, or live out the rest of his days in his brother’s guest room, getting up at ass-crack o’clock in the morning to tend to the various things that needed tending to on a farm.

He was still deciding.

“Clint! Get off your ass and help me with this!”

Yeah, scratch that last one.

Clint sighed and hauled himself off the couch, “Why the hell did you get a farm, Barney? I thought you were doing good in the army?” he asked as he stepped out to help his brother unload some timber from the back of his truck.

Barney glared at him, “Well Clinton, when ones younger brother gets recruited into a shady spy organization that turns out to be secretly harboring Neo-Nazi’s hell bent on world domination, the U.S. government tends to get a little suspicious of your motivations.” he said through his teeth, grinning in a way that suggested he’d like to shove a 2-by-4 up Clint’s ass.

Clint rolled his eyes, “Don’t blame me, it’s not like I knew that Hydra was fucking shit up behind the scenes. You could have stayed in the army and faced the investigation. It’s not like you have anything to hide.” he said.

Barney sighed, “Whatever, I was going to leave anyway.” he said. Clint resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “And what about you anyway? Why’d you leave the super hero shit behind? I thought you were doing pretty good with that stuff?”

Clint tossed the last bundle of timber onto the pile, “Yeah well, I reassessed my life.” he growled.

Barney narrowed his eyes at him, “Fine, be an ass.” he said, hopping down from the truck, “But you know, I haven’t seen you so into something since you first started taking archery lessons.”

Clint glared at nothing in particular, “Yeah well, what do Gods need with an archer?” he grumbled to himself, then turned and stomped back inside.

Barney sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’d be surprised.” he said to the air where Clint had been standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you might have noticed that the way each character is referred to changes with each perspective jump. It's actually a literary device called free indirect discourse, and I always thought it was pretty neat. The more you know.


	3. Memory Lane

For all that he was new to life, Vision thought that he understood it fairly well. The mechanics were quite simple when broken down and looked at, and genetics and environment helped shape the new life once it had been conceived. That was not to say it wasn’t the most extraordinarily beautiful thing in the universe, it was still understandable.

Emotions were less understandable.

In the weeks since Sokovia, Vision had watched the people—the humans—around him express so much emotion in a very little amount of time. Thousands of emotions expressed in one day, each one unique, and each one unique to a person, and each person expressing their emotions in their own unique way.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Vision wandered through the compound, taking note of each person he passed. There was so much to learn from humans, and he was determined to learn as much as he could. Some people tended to be more cheerful, while others more subdued. Some were perpetually nervous, while others existed in a state of calm. It was fascinating to watch, but it often led him to wonder about his own emotions. Could he even have them? What did emotions even feel like?

He had started wondering about such things shortly after his birth, watching the Avengers interact. At first, he hadn’t been sure what he was seeing between them, but he’d come to realize what it was; love. The Avengers loved each other, in many different ways, and it was amazing to see. He hadn’t really understood it at the time, but looking back on it, he could see the extent of their feelings for one another.

The most common love between them seemed to be friendship, which was shared freely among them. However, he could also see romantic love and affection shared between a few members. Hawkeye and Black Widow were curious, sharing a deep love, but he wasn’t sure if it was romantic or not. He wished he could have studies it more, but Hawkeye, Clint, had left the Avengers, while Natasha stayed behind.

The other ‘couple’ he had been curious about was the one between the leaders, Captain America and Iron Man, Steve Rogers and Anthony Stark. Their relationship was odd to him, seemingly based in friendship, but with the beginnings of a deeper connection. However, neither seemed to notice it, which was paradoxical to him. How could one feel something without noticing that they were feeling it? The very idea was a foreign concept to him.

He was brought from his musings when the P.A. system hissed on and asked for his and Falcon’s presence in Conference Room #8. Vision was tempted to just phase through the walls to get there as quickly as possible, but he had learned that it made people uncomfortable when he did.

He arrived at the conference room exactly 5 minutes and 18.7665 seconds later, where Captain America, Black Widow, and War Machine were already waiting. Falcon stepped into the room 48.3218 seconds after him.

“What’s the mission?” Sam asked. Vision liked that about Sam, he was direct when it was time to be direct, and jovial and fun when it was time for fun.

Captain America tapped on his tablet and the television screen behind him lit up, “About a week and a half ago, Dr. Cho’s Cradle was intercepted on its way back to Seoul. Signs point to the involvement of Advanced Idea Mechanics, though we’re not sure if it’s a branch group or the remnants of the same group that Iron Man was engaged with in 2013.”

A map came up on the screen, “So far, Tony has been able to trace their movements from Japan to Western Uzbekistan. Further investigation revealed an underground compound.” a series of taps on the tablet brought up a thermal image, bird’s eye view of a compound in the middle of the desert, “Since we don’t know what sort of weaponry they possess, or what exactly they’re up to, we’re sending in a stealth team to do recon before we make our next move.” Captain American put the tablet down, “Black Widow, Falcon, and Vision will comprise the team, which Black Widow will lead. She’s going to get close to the compound and see if she can get inside, while Falcon will keep to the air and scout the area. Vision will act as back up in case things go sideways.”

Sam nodded, “Sounds like a plan to me.” he said, “When do we leave.”

“Two hours from now. Pack your things, boys.” Black Widow said with a small grin.

Vision liked Natasha. At first she seemed distant and calculating, which Vision could appreciate the efficiency of, but once you looked past that, or rather, once she let you look past that, she was an incredibly caring and kind individual.

As Sam trotted off to pack for the mission, Vision lingered behind. He didn’t really have anything to pack, so there was no need for him to return to his suite (which he supposed was a little barren). Instead he picked up the tablet and went through the information, absorbing it quickly by downloading everything.

“Vision?” Rhodes called, “What are you doing?”

“Uploading the mission parameters directly.” he replied, “As well as some additional information about Uzbekistan and A.I.M..”

Rhodes blinked, “You’re a weird dude, you know that?” he said.

Vision tilted his head, “I was aware that I am ‘weird’, yes. Though that is the first time I have ever heard it phrased that way.”

Rhodes looked like he was about to say something, then stopped. Then he said, “It’s really weird to hear you speak like that.”

“Like what?” Vision asked, then he remembered that Rhodes was Stark’s friend, “You mean the way my voice is the same as J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

“Yeah, it’s a little freaky.” Rhodes said, “Like, do you have J.A.R.V.I.S.’s memories, or just his voice? I mean, you don’t have the same personality at all, but Tony said you were different entities.”

“I am not the child of J.A.R.V.I.S., no.” Vision said, “And I do not have the memories of J.A.R.V.I.S. in the way that you are thinking. I have access to the remnants of his memory banks, and I can access them at any time, but I have no physical memory of them myself.”

“So it’s like you’re looking at a video rather than a memory?” Rhodes inquired.

“I suppose that would be the best way to describe it.” he said. He turned to Rhodes, “Do you miss him?”

“Who, J.A.R.V.I.S.?” Rhodes asked; he shrugged, “Not really. To me he was more of a computer program. I really good program with a personality, but I never really thought of his as ‘alive’. I guess maybe I just didn’t understand the mechanics of it or something, but to answer your question, no, I don’t miss him.” he paused for a moment, “Tony misses him though.”

Vision tilted his head and waited for Rhodes to continue, “I gathered that he felt oddly around me. He and J.A.R.V.I.S. shared a unique relationship.”

Rhodes chuckled, “Yeah you could say that.” he said, “Tony made J.A.R.V.I.S. a few years after his parents died, and completed him a year after Jarvis, the original Jarvis, passed away. He’d been around for years, and he’d grown with Tony as much as Tony had grown with him. He wasn’t just an invention to Tony, he was his friend.”

Vision processed this information. He’d wondered why Stark seemed stiff and distant with him, when he clearly favored machines over humans much of the time. He supposed this would have to be his answer. He turned back to Rhodes, “Do you think I have emotions?”

Rhodes blinked, “Uh, what?”

“I have become interested in the subject. I know that I am a machine, but at the same time, I am something else entirely. I am something new. I see the emotions of humans every day, millions of different emotions for millions of different situations and experiences. I find myself wondering from time to time if I feel emotions, if it is possible for me to feel emotions. Whatever literature I can find is frustratingly vague or rooted in physiology, which I do not have.”  he explained, “Perhaps an outside observer might shed some light on the situation?”

Rhodes looked stunned, “Er, I don’t know if I’m the guy to talk to about that sort of thing.” he admitted, “I’d say maybe talk to Tony, but he’s a bit emotionally stunted himself. Maybe try talking to Thor when he gets back?”

Vision didn’t think it was possible to be ‘stunted’ emotionally, but he accepted the common use of the phrase, “I’ll keep that in mind.” he said.

Rhodes nodded, “Well, you better go get ready. You and the others are leaving soon.”

Vision had plenty of time, but he recognised the polite dismissal, “Thank you, Colonel Rhodes. This has been enlightening.”

“Sure, anytime.” he said, “And you can go ahead and call me James if you like.”

Vision blinked, “James.” he repeated, “Thank you, James.”

Rhodes—James—quirked a smile and left the room, leaving Vision to finish downloading the information he wanted. Privately, he pulled up a memory file from the part of him that what remained of J.A.R.V.I.S. still lived in.

_“Okay Rhodey, say hello to J.A.R.V.I.S.!”_

_A dark man in modest dress stepped in front of the camera with a sceptical look on his face. Sir bounced excitedly at his side._

_“Dude, what are you on about?” he asked._

_Sir grinned, “C’mon Rhodey, say hi!”_

_The dark man gave a long suffering sigh and turned to face the camera again, “Hello.” he said._

_Hello._

_The dark man jumped backwards, surprised, “Whoa, what the hell?”_

_Sir laughed, “It’s J.A.R.V.I.S.! Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. I just finished him last week. I would have introduced you two earlier, but I wanted to make sure he was running right before I started showing him to people.” he peered into the camera, smiling, “Right buddy? Had to get the kinks out before I set you loose on the world.”_

_Your care is duly noted, Sir._

_Sir laughed and put a hand on the dark man’s shoulder, “This is James Rhodes, he’s my friend.”_

_Hello James Rhodes. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance._

_James Rhodes peered into the camera curiously, “So, what does he do? Does he just talk?”_

_“J.A.R.V.I.S. runs the house.” Sir explained, “He’s everywhere I want him to be that has a computer for him to access. Don’t worry though, I set up fail safes so we don’t have a Skynet situation on our hands. J.A.R.V.I.S. is the most advanced A.I. in the world.”_

_James Rhodes whistled, “Damn, that’s pretty impressive Tony.”_

_Sir bounced a little more, “I know, right? Come on, let’s go celebrate!”_

_James Rhodes laughed, “Sure thing Tony.” he wrapped an arm around Sir’s shoulder and started leading him away._

_“J.A.R.V.I.S.! Lock up when we leave, okay?” Sir called._

_Yes Sir._

_“Thanks buddy!”_

The memory file ended and Vision blinked. To himself, for seemingly no reason at all, he smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam stuffed the last of his skivvies into his duffle and hoisted it over his shoulder. His Falcon gear would be waiting for him in the hangar so he didn’t have to lug it across the compound. It was lighter than it used to be, thanks to Stark tinkering with it and improving it, but it was still a pain in the ass to put on and walk around in.

He met Natasha and Vision in the hangar, “Hey guys, we ready to go?”

“Jet’s still charging.” Natasha said. All of the jets had repulsor engines, against curtesy of Stark, but they still had to have electrical relays to augment it.

“Right, I’m gonna go gear up.” he said, setting his bag down. It only took a few minutes, and when he came back they were walking toward the jet.

He hopped on and caught up with Natasha, “How long until we get to our destination?”

“Few hours. Make yourself comfortable.” she replied. He nodded and sat down next to her.

“I got told off by Wanda.” he said.

She quirked an eyebrow at him; he rubbed the back of his neck, “I was trying to get her to open up about her brother, but I guess I didn’t take some things into consideration.”

“Like what?” Natasha asked, glancing up at him.

“I was going off of personal experience.” Sam said, “You know, trying to be relatable. But she shut me down, saying it wasn’t the same as losing a twin.”

Natasha nodded in understanding, “She has a point. Twins often share a connection that others just don’t understand. On top of that, they’d been through the ringer more than most, only relying on each other.”

“That’s what she said. That she had lost her ‘constant’.” Sam said, “I guess I blew it.”

“No, not really. She’s lashing out.” Natasha said, “She’s in a world she doesn’t understand and still trying to make sense of it. She’s lost her whole world, and this new one is bizarre and unfamiliar, especially without her brother. Give her a little more time, let her figure it out and come to you.”

Sam nodded and settled in for a long flight, “I hope she feels better. Man, she looked like a ghost.”

Natasha gripped the steering wheel, “She’ll heal.” she said, with a conviction that made Sam wonder if it was simply an assessment or if Natasha had a personal stake in the matter. He didn’t know Natasha’s whole story, despite all of S.H.E.I.L.D.’s secrets being dumped onto the internet, but he had gathered enough, both from known Natasha and from doing a little digging, that she could be very protective.

If that girl ever needed anything, Sam was sure that Natasha would walk through fire to make sure she could get it.

 

* * *

 

Pepper liked to think of herself as a tolerant person. She’d have to be, dealing with Tony for so long. But even she had lines that could be crossed, and this came close.

“Tony, what are you doing?”

Tony flinched and turned to face her, grinning sheepishly, “Sorry, I know I said no more Avenging, but Dr. Cho’s Cradle went missing after I shipped it out and I’m trying to help them find it.” he explained, “A.I.M. might be involved.”

Pepper resisted the urge to sigh, “All the more reason to leave it to the Avengers.” she said, “Tony, you promised.”

“I know, I know.” Tony said, twisting back around to tap at his screens, hiding the maps and schematics from sight (she knew better than to think they were gone), “I’m . . . tapering off.”

Pepper did sigh this time and crossed to wear Tony was still tapping away. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, gathering up fistfuls of his shirt over his chest. He didn’t stop tapping, but he leaned back into her, breathing deeply, content.

“Tony, I can’t do this.” she said, wincing when he stiffened, “I can’t be the girl who waits by the phone and watches the news, waiting for the day you don’t come home. I . . . I know it’s important, and it’s been so good for you, but I can only be so many things.”

“I know.” Tony said, twisting in her grip to hug her properly, “I know. I want to be with you, I want to stop worrying you, but . . . they need me Pep. Just this one last time.”

Pepper leaned her head on Tony’s shoulder. She was wearing three inch heels, and he wasn’t a tall man to begin with, making them eye to eye, “I want to believe that so badly,” —“So believe it.”— “but what happens when ‘just this once’ happens again? And again after that?”

Tony squeezed her tightly, like she might leave him right there, “I understand.” he said, “I’ll give them what I have and then that’s that. No more Iron Man.”

“Thank you.” she kissed him, feeling the scratch of his goatee against her face, “Thank you.”

Tony hummed and nuzzled into her, “Why don’t I let F.R.I.D.A.Y. finish up here and we can go test the new mattress I just got?” he purred, kissing below her ear.

Pepper giggled, “Sounds like a plan.” she said. Tony smiled and tapped a few more screens.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., keep running things, but divert anything to do with the Cradle case to the Avengers Compound.”

“Yes boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped. Tony flicked off the lights and turned to follow Pepper out of the lab.


	4. The Blind Coven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about Agatha Harnkess the character tbh, so I'm going to wing it for the most part. Then again, that's what Joss Whedon did (zing!).

Wanda breathed deeply, tilting her head towards the sky. There was rain in the air, as far as she could tell. It was different in the city, where the feeling of rain in the air was often accompanied by sticky humidity and the smell of cooked garbage. Out in the forest, the humidity still stuck, but it felt cleaner, and there was only the smell of dirt and foliage and wood rot. It was strangely comforting and familiar, though she didn’t know where she would have encountered it before.

Stepping over a fallen log, Wanda glanced out into the distance, watching for wildlife. Natasha had warned her to stay on the paths, but it was so tempting to wander off into the forest and explore. If Pietro was here, he would be running through the trees excitedly.

The sudden thought of her brother made her suck in a breath. The wound throbbed, but the darkness stayed at bay, _“No.”_ she thought, _“I will not let this place become sad. Here will be a place for happy memories.”_

With that in mind, she forced the darkness back and focussed on the good times she and her brother had, however few they had been. The forest seemed to keep the darkness at bay a little; there was life under every stone, behind each tree, and filling every nook and cranny. It made her feel safe, comforted, like being wrapped in a loose hug. She recalled the words her mother spoke to her when she had been a little girl.

_“We are Roma, my love.” she said as she brushed her hair, “We’ve lived off the land for generations when others turned to their farms and cities. It’s in our nature to wander, to become lost. You carry that blood in you. No matter where you are, know that the forest is your friend and the old ways will guide you, as is your birthright.”_

Wanda wasn’t sure what she said next, but it caused her mother to laugh and kiss the top of her head and promise that they would visit the forest soon. A few weeks later, her mother and father were dead and all she had in the world was her brother.

Forcing the sadness away, Wanda instead thought about the forest and her heritage. She was only half Roma, as her mother had been Roma and her father had been of Germanic Jewish decent, but she could still feel in her bones the sense of calm that the forest gave her. She felt like she was stepping into the home of a long forgotten friend.

Feeling slightly better, Wanda walked along the path, letting her powers reach out without much care. She had never had occasion to simply let her powers out without purpose before, but here, so far away from other people, she let it run loose.

Rivulets of red ran across the forest, casting everything in an eerie glow. Wanda could feel the life pulsating around her, from microorganisms to the animals that hid from her presence. The feeling was amazing, exhilarating and humbling all at once. Wondering how far she could take it, she let her power go a little more.

“Wanda.”

She whipped around, cutting off her power in an instant. There was no mistaking that voice.

“Pietro?” she called, disbelieving but still holding on to a shred of hope.

She waited; nothing, not even a whisper from the forest. The wound was still there, still painful, unchanged. Wanda furrowed her brow and reached out with her power, with purpose now. The wound shuddered and wavered, reacting to her. She still couldn’t face it, lest the darkness try and strike again, but she could feel it.

“Wanda, stop.”

“Pietro!” Wanda called, heart thudding in her chest, “Where are you? I can’t see you!”

“Wanda, you have to stop. You can’t help.”

Wanda poured more power into the wound; the darkness began to creep in, but she ignored it. She had to find Pietro.

“Wanda! Stop!” Pietro called, frantic now, but sounding closer, “You’re going to be killed! It’ll take you!”

“But I can fix it! Pietro!” Wanda cried, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

“You can’t!” Pietro said softly, like he was right next to her. There was the sensation of lips against her forehead, “Wanda, please. Don’t do this.”

Wanda sobbed and let her power fade. The darkness receded, but so did the feeling of her brother next to her. The wound throbbed painfully, feeling bigger than it had before. Collapsing to the ground, Wanda began to cry.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright boys, we’re about fifteen minutes from touching down. We’re going into stealth mode. Everyone’s clear on their mission?” Natasha called.

“You go in, I keep a bird’s eye view, Vision on standby.” Sam said, “That about cover it?”

“Just about.” Natasha said, flicking a few switches, “Try not to get seen and keep your comm on at all times. This is recon, but it’s still dangerous.”

“Copy that.” Sam said, adjusting his ear piece.

“Affirmative.” Vision said.

Natasha smiled and started to let them down a ways from the compound. They couldn’t see the compound from where they touched down, but as it was supposedly mostly underground, it wouldn’t matter. The important part was that they couldn’t see them, and hopefully wouldn’t see her approaching. She put the jet into park and started getting ready for infiltration.

“Falcon, you think you can drop me off a couple meters from the entry point?” she asked as she got into her camouflage. A skin tight black catsuit was fine for certain places, but not the middle of a desert.

“Sure.” Sam said.

Vision crossed to the cockpit of the jet and linked himself into the satellite system, “No outside activity that can be observed.” he said, “I’m not detecting any cameras or artillery in the area either.”

“Whoever’s running this show is banking on it being hidden and hard to get to.” Sam said, “Think that’s a good sign or a bad sign?”

“We’re Avengers, it’s always bad.” Natasha said, aiming for cheeky, but she thought it came out a little resigned.

Sam grumbled something about crazy death wishes and took Natasha’s arm, “Ready?” he asked.

Natasha grinned, “You know it.” she said. Sam grinned back at her and they left the jet, “If you see movement that we don’t, let us know.” she called back to Vision.

“Yes ma’am.” Vision answered.

“Ooh, ‘ma’am’. I like the sound of that.” Natasha said as she and Sam trekked out into the desert.

Sam chuckled, “Aren’t you a bit young to be a ‘ma’am’?”

Natasha shrugged one shoulder, “I’m older than I look. Comms functional?”

“Comms functional.” Sam answered her. Vision gave his own answer as they prepared to take to the sky.

“Hold on.” Sam said, and then they were airborne.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was going over the latest files that Tony had sent them (strangely not as precise as the previous files, but still a far cry better than what they would have gotten otherwise) when he noticed Wanda through the window, stumbling out of the forest looking harried.

“She looks like she’s seen a ghost.” Rhodes said, “Think one of use should go talk to her?”

“We’re on mission right now, it can wait.” Steve said, but he wasn’t sure he believed that.

Apparently, Rhodes didn’t believe him either, “Go check on her, team leader, I’ve got this. If anyone can decipher Tony-speak, it’s me.”

“Thanks.” Steve said, setting down the tablet he’d been fiddling with. He walked briskly to the side entrance and caught Wanda just as she was coming down the hall. She was so out of it that she nearly crashed into him.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, once they’d righted themselves.

“Yes, fine.” she said, too quickly, “There was . . . something . . . in the forest.”

“There’s something in the forest?” Steve raised an eyebrow, “Like a bear?” he asked. It probably wasn’t safe to have a big animal like that so close to the compound. They were Avengers, sure, but that wouldn’t stop them from getting mauled to death.

Wanda shook her head, “No, nothing like that.” she said, “I thought I saw—I thought I _heard_ . . . nevermind.” she said, “It was nothing.” she turned away from him and tried to walk past him

He grabbed her arm before she could get very far, “It doesn’t look like nothing.” Steve said, “You’re white as a sheet. Did something happen?”

Wanda looked everywhere but at him. Then she turned her gaze to his and she looked so _haunted_ that Steve nearly took a step back, “I . . . I . . .” she tried, then shook her head and said something in Sokovian, “It was my head playing tricks. I need to sit down.”

Steve got the feeling that she really shouldn’t be alone right now, “Come on then. I’ll make you a cup of tea. I’m sure Natasha won’t mind if we dip into her stash a little.” he said, wrapping an arm around her to guide her.

Wanda glanced up at him, “She won’t mind?” she asked skeptically.

“Well, she won’t mind if we don’t tell her.” Steve elaborated.

That managed to get a genuine chuckle out of Wanda, so Steve counted it as a win.

 

* * *

 

The moment Natasha managed to sneak her way inside the compound, she knew that there was something ‘off’ about this.

It was instinctive at this point, to react to anything that was out of the ordinary, even though her ‘ordinary’ was objectively pretty strange. Still, a number of things occurred to her as she stole around.

“It smells strange inside.” she whisper-spoke into her comm.

“Poison? Gas? Mold?” Sam asked, sounding worried.

“No, like spices.” Natasha said, “Herbs and plants.” she breathed deeply. It didn’t smell bad at all, in fact it was rather pleasant, but she didn’t drop her guard, “It smells like basil and sage.”

“Basil and sage?” Sam questioned, “Like the stuff that goes in soup?”

“In folklore, basil is used to ward off minor evil spirits.” Vision chipped in, “Sage is often used in cleansing rituals.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, but kept her judgments to herself as she passed a wreath of dried vegetation, “What’s the story behind a wreath of,” she gingerly inspected the wreath, “Blackberry, ivy, and I think this is rowan?”

Vision was quiet for a moment, “That is supposedly a very powerful shield against all evil. Is there Boxwood as well?” he said.

“Yes, looks like.” Natasha said, leaving behind the wreath, “It looks like there’s one at every entrance.”

“Okay, this is weird.” Sam said.

Natasha scoffed, “Tell me about it.”

“No not that. Well, yes that, but this is weird too.” Sam said, “I’m getting a bird’s eye view of this place, and there’s a star drawn around the whole place.”

“A star?” Natasha asked, “What kind?”

“One of those five pointed ones you can draw without taking your pencil off the page.” Sam elaborated, “It’s dug right into the ground like a trench. There’s a big ol’ circle around the star too.”

“Another protection against evil spirits in Eurasian magic folklore.” Vision told them, “A pentagram inside a circle is a powerful symbol. It’s often used in summoning spells.”

“This is bizarre.” Sam said, “I know you guys fought aliens, and Thor is . . . Thor, but this magic shit is fucked up.”

“Hostiles spotted. Two.” Natasha whispered and they all went quiet. She ducked into a dark corner and peered out to get a better look at them, “They look like typical goons, but they’re sporting some pretty high tech weapons.” she reported. She inched closer, “The weapons are mismatched. One looks like a Hydra weapon, older model, and the other looks like an M27. Probably stolen.”

Goon #1 and Goon #2 were talking, more concerned with socializing than they were with patrolling. They probably didn’t think they’d be bothered, way out here. They weren’t speaking Uzbek, or any of the other languages common to the area, so they weren’t locals. In fact, they almost sounded American. Well, Goon #2 sounded American; Goon #1 had a slight accent, like he’d grown up in the UK (maybe South Africa?) before moving to the States several years ago. Natasha slipped closer when she had a chance, switching on a listening device so she, and her team, could hear what they were saying.

“I dunno man. I mean, I go to church and shit, but do you really believe all this hooey?” Goon #2 asked, his M27 pointed to the floor, safety on.

Goon #1 shrugged, “I don’t _disbelieve_ it. I mean, there’s stuff out there that can’t be explained. Shit, just think of the last couple of years. You can’t tell me that’s all science. There’s got to be more or people wouldn’t be so freaked.”

“But I mean, c’mon. This shit?” Goon #2 tugged on something hung around his neck; cloves, Natasha saw when they passed under a light, “You can’t believe those guys are actually trying to _summon_ something, can you?”

“Well _maybe_ , I don’t know!” Goon #1 said, waving his Hydra weapon around, “My Nana told me stories about fairy rings and evil ghosts and stuff when I was little. Scared the shit outta me as a kid. And what, didn’t you see the _giant freakin’ portal over Manhattan_ a few years back? That shit was fucked up. Who’s to say the ancient people weren’t getting into some of the same shit when they messed around with herbs, opening little mini-portals and bringing shit through? We don’t know.”

“Quite waving that thing around.” Goon #2 barked, “And that just sort of proves my point. It’s all science we just don’t know yet, ya’know?”

“Sure, you tell that to the crazy witch lady. I’ll watch.” Goon #1 said, turning a corner and disappearing from Natasha’s line of vision.

“Fuck that, she gives me the creeps.” Goon #2 said, following after his buddy.

Natasha waited a few moments, “You guys get all that?” she said into her comm.

“Loud and clear.” Sam said, “Wish I hadn’t though.”

“Fascinating.” Vision mused, “This group might be trying to combine old magic and new technology to access other worlds. The theory behind it is remarkable.”

“Fanboy later, Vizh.” Natasha said, “They said something about a witch. You think it might be a hostage?”

“Could be, could be the ringleader.” Sam said, “Anyway, we probably got enough to warrant an attack with the rest of the team.”

“Negative. We still haven’t found the Cradle.” Natasha said, “I’m going to head in deeper and see if I can’t get to a computer.”

Sam sighed, “Be careful.” he said.

Natasha slowly made her way down the winding corridors, keeping to the shadows and watching for movement. There were no security cameras, and the metal floors made it easy to hear the approach of booted feet. Clearly either no one was expecting visitors, or these guys had no idea what they were doing.

“It looks like there’s a lab of some kind up ahead.” Natasha said, “I’m going to take a peek.”

Heading back the way she came, Natasha gently climbed up into the crawlspace above her head. Slowly, in case she triggered something, she lifted a ceiling panel away and crawled inside. Getting around in the ceiling was tricky, but unlike in the movies, air vents were rarely big enough to fit people inside without a lot of noise and someone inevitably noticing. Making her way in the direction of the lab, Natasha listened for anything that might suggest her cover was blown. Nothing came, so she continued until she could peer over an open-ventilation grate and into the laboratory.

It looked like typical Hydra stuff, with a lot more random technology strewn about. All of the goons looked like they were Hydra of some kind or another, while the scientists milling about looked more like they’d be with A.I.M.. At first, Natasha couldn’t see anything pointing to the mystical, or anything like a portal, if that’s what they were trying to create. She then noticed that there were herb wreaths strewn and hung everywhere, and that every one of the scientists and the goons were wearing cloves around their necks. Pentagrams were drawn in seemingly random places, as were other symbols that Natasha guessed had similar meaning or purpose. It made the whole place look strangely macabre.

There was still no sign of the Cradle.

“I’m heading back. Standby.” Natasha reported. She inched her way back and crawled out of the ceiling, back into the crawlspace. Carefully replacing the ceiling tile, she then dropped down from the crawlspace, nearly landing on an old woman.

Swearing in alarm, Natasha dropped into a battle stance. The old woman only raised an eyebrow at her, completely calm and collected. She was bizarrely out of place in the compound, wrapped in a purple shawl and wearing a long dress. Her hair was silver grey, but her face, though wrinkled, was timeless in a way that made her look anywhere from 50 to 90. Cradled in her arms was a mass of black fur that Natasha recognised as a large cat.

“You’re the witch.” Natasha stated, not dropping her stance.

The woman laughed, “That I am, my dear.” she said, her voice strong and firm, “You better get going before they catch you.”

The sound of boots down the hall made Natasha turn; she looked back at the old woman, not sure if she should take her out or take her along.

“No time for that, deary. Here.” she pressed a little pouch into Natasha’s hand, “This will help you make it out to your friends. Next time, bring the little girl. She and I need to have a chat.”

The boots were coming closer and Natasha bolted, the pouch clutched in her hand. She raced through the halls back to her entry point, miraculously not encountering anyone. She stepped out into the light, blinding herself for a moment.

“Sam, I need pick up.” Natasha called over the comm. She ran until she heard the sound of Falcon’s wings swooping down to pick her up. Lifting her arms, she braced herself for the jerk that came with being bodily lifted into the air.

When they landed at the jet, Natasha immediately went inside and headed for the cockpit. Vision stepped aside just as she sat down and took them off the ground.

“What happened in there?” Sam asked, coming up behind her, “You’ve got crazy eyes.”

Natasha clenched the steering wheel and felt the near-forgotten pouch dig into her palm. She held it up to inspect it; it was a red velvet pouch with a thin leather drawstring, sealed with wax at the top. There was a symbol burned into one side of the pouch, which Natasha recognised as a morning star. She stared hard at it, like it might explain what had happened to her.

“I met a witch.” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up most of the witchy stuff, but I think I left it vague enough not to offend anyone too bad. If anyone has any pointers on magic (from different parts of the world), I'd be happy to try and make it as accurate as possible.


	5. Battle Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about magic other than what I see on TV, and I tried to do a little research, but it's probably not very legit. Anyway, if anyone has any tips for me, I'd greatly appreciate it. Also, I know the Roma and G*psy people are often stereotyped as following the 'old ways' of magic and everything, but I felt like it fit for this fic. I plan to leave it pretty vague if I can, and more focus on the folk aspect of it rather than the mysticism of it.
> 
> Side note; Steve mentions being brought up on the mysticism of Ireland in this chapter, which I think fits his character. His parents were Irish immigrants circa 1900-1910, and they would have probably grown up in a rural landscape. I've taken classes on both Irish history and Irish literature, and Irish fairy stories feature prominently in both culture and literature, so I figured that Steve would have grown up with those stories being told to him as a kid.

“Natasha and the team returned safely to base, boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped.

“Thank you.” Tony said, fiddling with his phone. He had to be at a charity event in a few hours and he still hadn’t come up with an excuse to get out of it, “What did she find?”

“Tony.” Pepper chastised, raising one perfect eyebrow.

“I know I know, but I’m curious.” Tony whined. He could tell he was wearing her patience thin.

She sighed, “Can’t you hold it until you see her again and ask her yourself? I know you’re helping out, but please Tony.” she begged.

Tony knew why she was getting on his case about this. After the events in Sokovia, he’d learned that Pepper had nearly passed out while watching the news, unable to handle the stress. He was doing this as much for her health as he was his own. He was getting to the other side of forty (something that plagued him every time he inspected his slowly greying hair in the mirror) and he wouldn’t be able to keep up with all of the younger heroes for much longer, no matter how good the suit. He had a company to build things for and a woman in his life to care for. He didn’t have time for Iron Man or the Avengers.

Tony smiled at Pepper and crossed the room to wrap his arms around her, “Sorry. A.I.M. is making me jumpy I guess.” he said, “I’ll try not to get too wrapped up.”

Pepper smiled at him, twisting to embrace him, “I know you’re trying.” she said. There was a note of sadness in her voice that Tony hated. He wished he understood what was wrong, so he could make it go away.

He pulled away, “Come on, let’s go waste time goofing off until we have half an hour to get ready for that thing you want me to go to.”

Pepper leveled him with a look and he was relieved to see whatever sadness she’d been feeling was nowhere to be seen, “Tony, no.”

“Tony yes.” he grinned, tugging her around by the hips. She rolled her eyes, but followed him anyway. He spared one last glance at his equipment and forced down the impulse to rush to the Avengers Compound and help.

 _They can handle it without me_ , he said to himself. His heart clenched painfully at that thought, like someone had jerked the now-absent arc reactor out of his chest, _They don’t need me._

* * *

 

Steve sat with Wanda for a long time, talking to her calmly. He tried to ask about what had spooked her so bad, but she wouldn’t talk about it, clamming up every time the conversation steered in that direction. Eventually he let it go, but it still worried him. He hadn’t seen her so shaken since her brother’s funeral. The tea seemed to calm her a little and the colour came back to her face after a few minutes of them talking. He was suddenly reminded that she was extraordinarily young in comparison to the rest of them, not counting Vision. She wasn’t even 2o yet, and she’d gone through a lot in such a short time. He wondered for a moment if she should even be here, becoming an Avenger, and not off living her life, going to school, figuring out who she was and what she wanted to do. Steve wished that he could protect her, if only from what was sure to come their way as Avengers. Still, he knew that she chose to be here, and that ‘normal’ wouldn’t be feasible to her, not with her powers and history.

Their conversation was cut short when his phone buzzed, “Natasha and the others are back.” he said, “Shall we go meet them?”

Wanda nodded and drained the last of her tea. The rinsed their cups and headed to the hangar where Rhodes was also waiting. He turned and nodded to Steve, face serious (well, more serious than usual).

“Widow radioed in. She sounded pretty shaken.” he said. Steve resisted the urge to sigh.

“Is she alright?” Wanda asked, sounding worried. Steve put a smile on his face and patted her shoulder.

“Nat’s made of tough stuff. She’ll be fine.” he reassured her. Wanda smiled back slightly and seemed to relax.

They waited for another minute before the jet came in, touching down without a bump or hint of trouble. Steve had to smile a little to himself at that; for all Tony was abrasive and a little difficult to get along with, he was one hell of a mechanic. He didn’t think even Howard could have made the things Tony thought up, even if he wasn’t restricted to the technology of his time. He’d tried to say so to Tony once, but the guy got twitchy when the subject of his father came up, so he’d let it go.

Natasha, Vision, and Sam all filed out of the jet, Natasha heading straight for him and Rhodes, “Debrief, now.” she said, then walked passed them, stopping only to smile at Wanda, probably to reassure her.

Steve glanced at Sam, but he only shrugged; Natasha must have been pretty spooked to have kept mum the whole trip. Sparing one last smile for Wanda, he trotted off with the others to one of the meeting rooms.

Natasha was standing at the end of the long table, body carefully neutral. It was only a testament to the time they’d spent together, getting to know one another, that told Steve that she was tense and thinking extremely hard. If he were Clint, he might have been able to tell more about her from just looking, but he had gone back to his brother’s farm, claiming to need a break from the crazy.

The rest of the Avengers (minus Wanda) filed in behind him and they all sat down. Natasha sat next to Steve and tossed what appeared to be a red velvet pouch tied with leather onto the table. A closer look revealed that it was sealed with wax and had a star symbol burned into one side.

“That was given to me in the compound.” Natasha said, “By a witch.”

Steve blinked, not sure how to react to that. Natasha continued before anyone could comment, “It seemed like the base was trying to mix technology with some kind of folk magic. There were various herbs and symbols placed around the compound, and all of the personnel I saw were wearing cloves around their necks, which Vision informed us were for protection, cleansing, or summoning, respectively.”

“Yes. When Black Widow mentioned the scent of basil and sage, I used a satellite uplink to search what they might be used for.” Vision explained, “There were wreaths of blackberry, ivy, rowan, and boxwood, which were used as shields against evil spirits.”

“There were also trenches in the shape of a star and circle dug around the whole compound.” Sam said, “It spanned maybe one kilometer in diameter. I snapped some photos.”

Sam got up and plugged his phone into the data uplink connected to the TV screen. After a few false starts, he managed to pull up his photos and flicked through them.

“This point here,” Sam pointed to one of the star’s points, “Seems to be pointing directly south.”

Steve furrowed his brow, “So these people are attempting magic? I thought they were stealing technology.”

“They seemed to be trying to combine the two.” Natasha said, “I came upon two hostiles and managed to listen to their conversation. Portals to other dimensions came up a lot.”

“So they’re trying to build a portal.” Rhodes said, “Do we know what for? And why would they need the Cradle for a portal?”

“I didn’t see the Cradle, but it might have been in a different part of the compound. The lab I found looked mostly like computer technology, stolen from various sources. It was more or less random, but a lot of it looked like tracking software or monitoring machines.” Natasha said, “But I think there’s another level under the rest of the compound, which might have housed the more expensive, more valuable technology.”

“Hydra and A.I.M.?” Steve asked, looking to her.

“Both were there, they looked like they were collaborating.” Natasha confirmed, “All of the goons were Hydra, and about half had Hydra weapons, the science staff all looked like A.I.M.. There wasn’t any sign of a big boss, so it’s unclear who’s in charge, A.I.M. or Hydra. It could be that A.I.M. hired a faction of Hydra that broke off when it looked like things were going south for Hydra, or it could be that a Hydra leader who wasn’t on site hired a bunch of A.I.M. eggheads to do the dirty work on the science.” she said.

“So we don’t know who’s running the show, and we’re not sure what they’re trying to do.” Rhodes said, “Perfect.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.” Steve said, “We’ll form a plan and raid the compound. Hopefully they’re more focussed on science, not weapons.”

Vision leaned forward, “I believe Miss Romanov mentioned something about a witch?” he asked.

Natasha got that guarded look on her face again, “There was a woman at the compound. She didn’t seem to be A.I.M. or Hydra. She was older, and she seemed to know what I was thinking.” she nodded to the little pouch, “She gave me that, told me it would shield me from getting caught on my way out of the compound.”

“Did it?” Rhodes asked with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha shrugged, “I didn’t encounter anyone on my way out. At all. Coming in, there were a lot more patrols.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and leaned over to take the pouch. It was heavier than it looked, and smelled like a spice rack. He could feel a circular object inside, possibly a coin of some kind, and little stick-like things. The wax smelled like beeswax, and was easily broken when Steve undid the leather strings. He dumped the contents out onto the table for everyone to see. There was indeed a coin; old, _very_ old, slightly misshapen, like it was handmade. The little sticks turned out to be small bones, likely birds or rodents, and what appeared to be a human tooth, all nestled in a bed of dried different herbs and flower petals.

Vision leaned forward to inspect the contents of the bag, “Fascinating.” he said, “Perhaps it’s meant to be a shielding token?”

“It’s a good luck charm.” came a voice at Steve’s side. He nearly jumped out of his seat, whipping around to see Wanda next to him where before he hadn’t perceived anyone. She looked sheepishly up at him, “I got curious.” she said, like it explained how she managed to get into the room without any of them noticing.

“You’ve seen this before?” Vision asked, the only one who didn’t look stunned by Wanda’s sudden appearance.

“Not exactly.” Wanda said, leaning over and sifting through the contents, “My mother used to make similar pouches, but nothing like this.” a slight wisp of red floated over the little pile, “This is very old magic. Very powerful.”

“Your mother was magic?” Sam asked.

“She was Roma, and she wanted to keep some of the old traditions alive.” Wanda explained, still more focussed on the pouch.

“I thought you were Jewish?” Sam said, sounding confused now.

“My father was.” Wanda said, and Sam just threw his hands up in defeat, “Rabbit’s bones for good luck.” she continued, “A human canine tooth to bite bad luck, very sharp and aggressive. Herbs to invite good spirits.” she picked up the coin and rolled it over her fingers, “And a token to pay the spirits for their services.” she said, smiling a little. Wanda put down the coin and took up the bag, inspecting the star symbol, “The morning star to guide you on the right path.” she hummed, “This is powerful luck charm to guide someone on the right path and banish bad luck.”

Most of the table looked either incredulous or skeptical, but Steve had grown up hearing about the mysticism of Ireland, his ancestral homeland, so he could see the merit of Wanda’s observations, “Thank you, Scarlet Witch.” he said, “You think the woman gave this to Widow to help her?”

Wanda nodded, “She wanted her to get out safely and quickly.” she said.

Natasha’s face was a mask of neutrality that spoke volumes, “She might be trying to set a trap for us.” she said, “She wasn’t locked up, and I didn’t see anything that suggested that she was being held captive. If anything, she seemed to have some kind of authority.”

Steve nodded, “So we’ll be extremely cautious.” he said, “We go in carefully and quietly and take out as many Hydra and A.I.M. agents as possible and then seize the technology. Understood?”

Everyone voiced their approval, “Good. Everyone take a break, but be ready. We’ll check a few more sources, so it might be a few days before we move to storm the castle.” Steve said. Everyone agreed and began to disband. Steve caught Wanda’s arm before she could escape.

“You’re supposed to be on leave.” he said, stern, but not angry.

“I was curious.” Wanda repeated, “I do not like to be out of the loop.”

Steve sighed, “It’s not because we don’t want you here, it’s for your health.” he said, “We’ve been over this. You’re too stressed right now. You need time to cope.”

Wanda shook her head, “I want to help. I know this.” she said, gesturing to the pouch and its contents, “No one else has this knowledge the way I do.”

“Vision seems to have a handle on it.” Steve said, but he knew that she had a point.

She shook her head, “I know more. I can sense what I don’t know.” she said, eyes flashing red, “I want to help.”

Steve sighed and she stepped closer, looking up at him, “Please?” she pleaded, looking so sincere that his resolve wavered.

“I’ll consider letting you come, but only to identify the magic items being used.” he said finally, “And I’m only _considering_ , understand?”

“Yes sir.” Wanda said, stepping back and standing as tall has her 5’4 would let her (not short for a woman, but short next to him). She nodded to Natasha and left the conference room.

“She shouldn’t come.” Natasha said once she was out of earshot.

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes, “We need her knowledge of this magic stuff on sight.” he said, “We don’t have much choice. We’re just going to have to watch her carefully. She doesn’t see combat, and we try to keep her away from any bodies, if we end up having to take these guys out.”

“I’m not talking about that.” Natasha said, stepping around to face him, “That woman, the one at the compound, she _knew_ about Wanda.” she said, a hint of worry colouring her voice, “She knew about Wanda, and she told me to bring her ‘next time’. She wants her there.”

Steve furrowed his brow, “You think she might try and get to her?” he asked.

Natasha shook her head and shrugged, “I have no idea. I didn’t detect any malice from her, but I barely noticed her at all until I landed on top of her.” she narrowed her eyes, “I don’t trust her.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll take that under advisement.” he said, “If we take Wanda along, we don’t let the other woman come near her.”

Natasha nodded, “Understood.” she said, and Steve had to stifle a smile. For all she seemed distant and calculating, once she took you under her wing, Natasha was a fierce protector.

“We might need help if we’re going to do this.” he said, “Do you think Clint would be willing to come out of retirement?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, which was her version of laughing in his face, “Fifty bucks says he agrees to come along after five minutes of pretending he doesn’t want to.”

Steve grinned, “That’s a sucker’s bet.” he said, “You’re on.”

 

* * *

 

 

“How did you do that?”

Wanda looked up to see Sam watching her. She quirked a brow, “Do what?” she asked.

“Sneak in like that.” Sam elaborated, “Did you,” he wiggled his fingers vaguely in what she assumed was supposed to mimic her powers, “Magic your way inside, like make yourself invisible?”

She tilted her head, “I did not turn invisible, but I made you all believe I was not there.” she said, “So in that sense, you didn’t see me, making me perceivably invisible.”

Sam nodded, “Weird, but makes sense.” he suddenly grinned, “These are not the droids you’re looking for.” he said, giggling.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, “What?” she asked. Was that some sort of American reference?

Sam burst out laughing, “Oh man, you don’t know Star Wars?” he asked. At her expression, he laughed again, “Of course you don’t. Come on.” he said, waving for her to follow him, “It’s movie time.”

Hesitating a moment, she followed in his footsteps, “Star Wars. This is a movie, right?”

“One of the best movie trilogies of all time.” Sam said excitedly, “It changed movie making forever.”

Wanda tilted her head to the side, but as Sam talked about the movie, she couldn’t help but smile at the happiness and excitement rolling off of him. They passed Vision on their way to the entertainment room and Sam roped him into joining them, claiming that Star Wars was a pop culture rite of passage. As she settled on the couch while Sam fiddled with the media centre, sitting next to Vision’s warm body, the wound throbbed even more painfully, reminding her of what was absent. However, the darkness was barely there, only just at the edges of her perception. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried not to think of what happened in the woods. In the distance, if she concentrated, she could hear the steady breathing she had known her whole life, mirroring her own.

She opened her eyes and tried to watch as the story of a long time ago in a galaxy far far away unfolded in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who listened to a lot of Taylor Swift while this was getting written?


	6. Parting Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that signing doesn't really work like speech, but I don't know enough to know how to portray it. Hopefully I'm not too off the mark.  
> Platonic soulmates Clint/Natasha makes me all squishy inside.

Clint woke up to the light of his phone going off in his eyes. Groaning, he reached over to check it, groaning louder when he saw who it was. He sat up and slid the button to answer the call.

“Hang on.” he said into the receiver, knowing that the person on the other side would wait. He grabbed his hearing aids from the nightstand, put them in, and finally picked up the phone, “What do you want?” he grouched.

“Somebody’s grumpy.” Natasha teased, “Farm life not agreeing with you?”

“What do you want?” Clint repeated.

There was a long pause while the two of them tried to outlast the other. Clint’s curiosity usually got the better of him and he caved, but in the mornings he had the advantage because he was usually sleepy enough to fall back to sleep without succumbing to the game. Natasha knew this, but they still played it anyway, because it was habit by now.

“We need your help.” she finally said, and Clint put a point in his corner.

“Is there some part of retired that you and Cap don’t understand?” he asked, rolling over and pulling the blankets over his shoulders. Mornings were often cold on the farm, “Unless you want some lovely fresh produce grown on my brother’s lovely property. The tomatoes are coming in amazingly.”

Natasha made a noise that would have been called a scoff if it had come from anyone else, “You only think you’re funny. We found a combined Hydra and A.I.M. base in Northern Uzbekistan, and we’re a big gun short. We could use your help in securing the base.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, “A big gun short?” he asked, “Someone get hurt?”

“In the figurative sense. We benched Scarlet Witch. She needed time.” Natasha said, and even over the phone, Clint could sense there was something more to that story.

“Her brother?” he asked, though the answer was obvious. He sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Hydra and A.I.M.? They’re working together?” he asked.

He could _hear_ the smirk in her voice, “As far as we can tell. They might be trying to make a portal into another dimension, using technology and magic.”

“Magic?” Clint asked, “Like, Asgardian magic that’s really technology we don’t get or . . . ?”

“Magic. Looks like Eurasian folk magic for the most part. Symbols and herbs and charms and stuff. Incantations too, probably.”

Clint shoved his face into his pillow and wondered if he could get away with taking out his aids and just ignoring the world.

“This is why I retired.” he grumbled.

“Is not.” Natasha said, “We’ll send someone to pick you up.”

Clint grumbled into his pillow, “By car?” he asked.

“Should be there in a couple hours.”

“ _By car_?”

“See you in a few hours Clint.” Natasha said, then hung up without another word. He glared at his phone and had to fight not to throw it across the room.

“Hey Clint? You up?” Barney called, knocking on the door loudly enough that he would hear without his aids.

“No!” Clint called back, shoving his phone under his pillow.

“Get up! We’re going to the Farmer’s Market!”

“What the shit for? We’re _on_ a farm! Why do we need to go to a Farmer’s Market if we’re already on a farm?” Clint shouted back.

“Just get off your ass!” Barney called through the door.

Clint groaned and tried to suffocate himself with his pillow. He rolled out of bed and went to find some clothes that were more or less presentable for the public. His pulled on yesterday’s jeans and fished out a purple T-shirt from the back of his drawer. He stumbled down the stairs and made a B-line for the kitchen.

“Clint, if I see you drinking out of the coffee pot one more time you’re going to wear it as a hat!” Barney shouted from the living room.

Clint rolled his eyes and pointedly took the biggest mug he could find and filled it as much as he could without spilling. Barney walked in and glared at him.

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow. Clint pretended not to hear him and just sipped his coffee. Barney rolled his eyes and tossed a slice of toast at him, “Eat. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. I wanna get there before fuckin’ Jenkins buys all of the goat cheese. Who needs that much goat cheese?” Barney ranted, “Fuckin’ Jenkins.”

Clint couldn’t help but chuckle; he’d heard this particular rant a few times, but it never failed to make him smile. He was surprised by how well Barney had adjusted to civilian life. He wished his could take a page from his book and just settle down. He still kept his bow and a quiver of arrows next to his bed, just in case, even though no one knew he was here (aside from his team — his _old_ team). Barney, on the other hand, seemed content with his farm, but then again, Barney had always strived for normalcy where Clint sought the absurd. Even in the circus, Barney had fought to keep them grounded in reality, trying to homeschool them both and forcing them to get their GED’s, while Clint had just been too in love with the fantastical nature of their life to realize when Barney got fed up and left him for the army.

Well, his obsession with absurdity had finally led him to Barney’s farm, away from the absurd that he didn’t have a place in anymore. Clint shut down that line of thought before he could get depressed. More depressed. Whatever.

They were at the Farmer’s Market by the time it occurred to Clint that he should tell Barney that Natasha had called. He chose his moment carefully, waiting for the right moment and choosing the right words.

“So I’m going to Uzbekistan with Natasha.”

Barney choked on the organic fruit blend juice he’d been sampling, “When the hell was that decided?” he coughed.

“This morning.” Clint said, “She called, they need my help.”

Barney looked like he was a second or two away from shoving an entire pomegranate down Clint’s throat, “You’re retired. You made a big stink about leaving all those weeks ago, and now you go back the minute they call you? What the shit?”

Clint shrugged, “The team’s still getting used to one another, and they’re down a team member for the moment.” he explained, “Besides, Natasha owes me another one now.”

Barney sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He ignored Clint for a few minutes while he paid for a few things, glaring at a hunched man with round glasses so thick they made him look like a bug, muttering ‘fucking Jenkins’ to himself. Clint followed along behind, stopping to chat up the cute girl manning the fruit stall. When they reached the artisanal bread stall, Barney stopped to look at him again.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” he asked, “You said you wanted out, but you’re back in at the drop of a hat.” Barney narrowed his eyes, “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Clint insisted, “I’m just . . . tapering off.” he finished lamely.

Barney wasn’t fooled, “Clint, why did you leave?”

“It was time to move on. Do something else.” Clint said, looking away.

Barney punched him in the arm, “Stop lying to me.” he growled, “Why did you really leave?”

Clint shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. He looked back at Barney once before grumbling and reaching up to take out his hearing aids. Barney started shouting at him angrily, but Clint just turned and started walking away, back to the truck. He slid into the passenger seat and leaned back, closing his eyes, the world around him faded out into a distant warble.

Barney didn’t come back for another hour, during which, Clint dozed off a little. He startled when he felt the truck jerk as Barney yanked the door open to climb inside. He glared at Clint, but didn’t say anything as he started the truck. Clint left his aids out and stared out of the window while they drove; he could see Barney’s lips moving out of the corner of his eye, but he was probably just calling him names because he knew he could get away with it.

When they arrived home, Clint went straight upstairs to back a bag. He checked all of his gear and filled a few quivers with arrows, checking the points and fletching as he went. Natasha had said a couple of hours, but that could mean anything, really. He made sure to pack both sets of aids and his crappy back up pair, just in case (the minute Tony had found out about his ears, he’d personally made two beautifully crafted sets of hearing aids that were far superior to anything on the market, though he was told that Stark AidsTM would be commercially available in a year or two, once they could find a way to mass produce them in a cost effective manner).

Once he was packed, he went downstairs to make himself something to eat. S.H.E.I.L.D. transport never thought of those things, so it was always wise to either pack a lunch or eat before. After a big sandwich and a heaping salad (which was all from Barney’s garden and really _really_ tasty), he gathered his stuff and went to sit on the porch to wait for his transport.

A half an hour later, Barney brought him a cup of coffee. _Waiting?_ he signed.

 _Natasha didn’t specify a time._ he signed back, then took the coffee. He stretched his legs out and turned so he could see better if Barney started signing again.

Barney nodded and sat down next to him, _Car?_ he signed. Clint shrugged and Barney threw back his head and smiled, laughing probably. Clint punched him in the shoulder.

They sat for a while, sipping their coffee and waiting for whatever transport Natasha had coked up to come get him. He was still a little put out from earlier, but now his anger had simmered out and he was left to think about the real reason he was upset.

Why _had_ he left the team?

Clint did his best to think around the issue without actually getting to the core of the problem. He didn’t _want_ to think about it, as childish as that was. He finished his coffee and leaned back to wait, clearing his head in a sort of meditative state, which was usually easier when he was firing his bow.

A shadow passed above them and a Quinjet stopped just over the porch, hovering. Barney was laughing again and Clint put his face in his hands, bemoaning his life. Two agents dropped down from the jet and began hooking Clint up to a harness.

“Guys?” Clint asked, though he couldn’t see if they answered him with their facemasks down, “Guys.” he tried again. They didn’t pause in their work, finally getting him strapped in, “Guys!” Clint shouted as he was jerked into the air.

He was so getting Nat back for this.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Barney sign something that looked like _Be safe_ , but he couldn’t be sure.

 

* * *

 

“Tony?” Pepper called, walking through the tower halls. As long as she had known Tony, she had never understood his fascination with making his homes as maze-like as possible. She suspected it had something to do with his parents, but she had never gotten up the courage to ask. She turned down another hall and took the stairs down to the lab she thought he was working in.

Since Tony had left the team, and Iron Man, behind, Pepper had started to question whether or not what she had asked of him was right. In all the years she had known him, he had never been so focussed as when he had been Iron Man. She had thought that maybe it had been more of his new direction for the company (which, despite her initial reaction, she was incredibly proud of him for) that had increased his zeal for life, but the more time he spent away from Iron Man and the Avengers, the more she could see him breaking down. It hurt her to watch, especially since becoming used to seeing him so vibrant, and extremely since she knew that part of, if not most of, the reason he had stopped was for her.

But she knew she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be his CEO and his girlfriend and the woman who waited by the phone, waiting for news that he wasn’t going to call ever again. It was too much and she couldn’t possibly do all three. She loved Tony, and she had loved what Iron Man had done for him, but she couldn’t endure the gut wrenching anxiety every time Iron Man only just scraped past.

Pepper landed on the lab floor and strutted forward, catching sigh of Tony talking to his new A.I.. It was strange, hearing a female voice instead of J.A.R.V.I.S., but she was slowly getting used to F.R.I.D.A.Y.. He was standing in front of two monitors that were displaying alternatively a map of Uzbekistan and a string of what looked like accountancy files. As she got closer, she didn’t know if she should be angry or resigned.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Tony was grumbling, “Why would they be financing this? Why are they involved?” he tapped a few screens and a bunch of code came up, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., get in touch with the team and let them know that—Pepper!” he jumped when he saw her. He started flicking the screens away, like she hadn’t already figured out what he was doing, “I was just—“

“Tony.” she stopped him, “Let’s talk.”

Tony had the good graces to look ashamed of himself, but he smiled at her when she waited for him to reach her so they could go up the stairs together. They made their way to the living room and sat down, Tony launching into an explanation before his butt had even hit the cushions.

“I know what it looked like in there, and I’m so sorry.” he started, grabbing her hands in his, “But I was just reviewing everything one last time before I sent the last of it to the team and I noticed something weird with the numbers that were being moved around in their accounts so I took a peak and I got a little carried away. I promise it’s not going to happen again, Pepper, I promise.”

And he was smiling so sincerely and hopefully that she couldn’t help but smile back at him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and forgive him until the next time it happened, which it inevitably would.

Instead, she took her hands out of his and tried not to let her resolve waver as his face fell.

“Tony.” she started, “We both know it’s going to happen again.”

“It won’t.” Tony said, shaking his head, “Pepper I—“

“Tony, stop.” Pepper said, “It’s going to happen again, and that’s _okay_.” she said, leaning forward and taking his hands in hers instead. She ran her thumbs over the backs of his hands; they were tanned scarred and spoke of the years of inventing and making things by hand because he couldn’t just let someone else do it, he had to be right there, in the thick of it, because that’s just who he was.

“It’s okay that you want to save the world.” she continued, “I’m so proud of you Tony, to be doing this. I think about what you used to be and who you’ve become and I couldn’t be happier for you.” she said, smiling at him, and he smiled back, but not relaxing an inch; waiting for the other shoe to drop, “But I can’t do this with you Tony.”

“Hey now.” he protested, “You’ve held together with me for this long. Remember Stuttgart, ’98? You held together then, you’re indestructible.” he said.

Pepper laughed, leaning into him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, too tense and too tight to be comfortable, more like he was desperate to hold her there, with him. All the same, she wrapped her arms around him, putting her face in his neck.

“I can’t Tony.” she said again, hating it when he flinched, “I can’t be Iron Man’s girlfriend.”

“I’m not . . . I stopped that.” Tony said, “No more Iron Man.”

“That’s what you said after the Mandarin attack.” Pepper said, “And I believed you then. But Tony.” she pulled away, “You need Iron Man. The world needs you to be Iron Man.”

Tony didn’t say anything, just watching her. She smiled and stroked his cheek, “I love you, and I think I always will, but I can’t be with Iron Man, and I won’t ask you to stop being that, not for me.” she said, “You need Iron Man more than you need me.”

“Don’t say that.” Tony said, catching her wrist, “I need you.”

Pepper smiled, “And I’ll be here for you.” she said, “But . . . I think we shouldn’t be together.”

Tony let go of her wrist, slowly, “We’re breaking up?” he asked.

Pepper forced back tears and nodded, not trusting herself not to choke. She stood up, “I’m not mad at you Tony. I could never be mad at you for doing this, for being who you are.”

“But it’s too much.” Tony said, smiling sadly up at her, “Iron Man is too much.”

She nodded, “You need Iron Man.” she repeated, “The world needs Iron Man.”

Tony nodded, but averted his eyes. Pepper felt her heartbreak and leaned down to kiss his forehead, “It’s not goodbye forever.” she promised, “I’m still your CEO and your friend, and I hope to be for a long time.”

Tony managed to smile at that and finally looked up at her, “I understand.” he said, “I get it.” he stood up and squeezed her hand, “I’ll take a trip.” he said, which would have been strange if Pepper hadn’t been used to his chaotic thought process, “I’ll head up to the compound, spend a few days, help with the thing.” he said, stepping back, away from her, but not letting her hand go just yet, “Give you time to . . . give you some time. Hey, do I still own the property in Malibu? You would know. You take it. I’ll sign it over to you, build you a nice place on it. You liked California. More than you like New York anyway. Sound good?”

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh, “You still own the property.” she said, “And several properties across the country. And no, I’ll find my own place.” she said, “I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, I can afford a place in New York. Hell, I could afford most of New York.”

Tony laughed, “Yes you could. You could rule the world if you wanted to and no one would stop you because, honestly, you’d have everything running better than ever.” he said.

Pepper smiled and kissed his cheek, “Thank you.” she said. They stared at each other for a long moment, “It’s not goodbye.” she said.

“More like, ‘see you later’?” Tony suggested, smiling sadly.

“Yeah.” she said, smiling back, “See you later.”

She let go of his hand and turned, walking out the door and not allowing herself to look back at him. She didn’t look back and he didn’t see the tears running down her face.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha found Wanda curled up on the couch with Sam and Vision, watching the second Star Wars movie. She didn’t seem to be paying too much attention, but it looked like she was enjoying herself with the two men nonetheless. Sam was animatedly talking about the movie as it was playing, adding commentary or explaining the innovations used for a particular scene. Vision was sitting quietly next to Wanda, eyes forward, but Natasha could see that he was more interested in watching Wanda and Sam watch the movie than watching it himself. It was oddly domestic, but she was glad that the new team was starting to come together.

She was loath to break the tranquility, but she needed to speak with the younger woman, “Wanda? Can I have a word with you?”

Wanda nodded and stood, despite Sam’s protests, “She’s gonna miss the movie!” he whined.

“You can rewind it.” Natasha said, raising her brow at Sam. All other protests were stifled and he sank back into the couch, putting on a show of pouting. He was worse than Clint sometimes.

Natasha shook her head and led Wanda away so they could talk in private, “Are you sure you want to go on this mission?” she asked.

Wanda shifted her weight, “I want to be helpful.” she said, “I want to be of use.”

“You’re of no use to anyone if you get yourself killed.” Natasha said, hating it when Wanda winced. Harsh truth, but still the truth and something she needed to hear, “I know what it’s like to want to help, in any way you can, but sometimes that means taking downtime to heal. If you want to go on this mission, you have to promise me that you won’t try to jump in if there’s combat. We can’t trust your emotional state right now, and with your powers, that can be extremely dangerous for you and for your team. Do you understand?”

Wanda looked up at her with wide eyes, “Y-yes.” she said, “I promise not to try and use my powers to fight.”

Natasha nodded, “You are only going along to consult on the mysticism, understood?”

“Understood.” Wanda said, standing straight, a few centimeters shorter than Natasha, but she was so young that she might still have a growth spurt in her.

Natasha smiled slightly and put her hand on her shoulder, “I know you want to help, but we want you safe.” she said, “We care about you, Wanda.”

Wanda relaxed her posture a little, “Yes, I understand.” she said, though she didn’t know why they all cared about her.

Natasha squeezed her shoulder, “Why don’t you go back to the movie? It really is good.” she said.

Wanda shrugged, “I suppose. They all talk so fast sometimes, I have a hard time understanding.”

“I’m sure Sam would be happy to turn on subtitles for you, if you wanted.” Natasha said.

“I shall ask.” Wanda said. She smiled at her a little and turned back to the entertainment lounge. Natasha lingered long enough to hear Sam exclaiming about her not having heard what was going on in the movie and smiled, then turned to go wait in the hangar for Clint. She had a bet to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Tony and Pepper's break up was hard. I don't want either of them to be the bad guy, but I want it to be authentic. I think I got it for the most part.


	7. Compatibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I had to end it where I did because I wanted to give Tony and Steve a big part and it would have gotten too long.

Steve looked down at his phone for the eighth time in the last half hour. Tony was supposed to have called with more information, and he’d texted Steve saying that he might have found something important, but after that he hadn’t said a word. Usually he called almost right away to crow about figuring it all out before anyone else, and Steve was usually the one he called, but now there was nothing.

“Rhodes, have you heard from Tony?” Steve asked, poking his head into the kitchen where the other man was mixing something in a bowl.

“No, why?” Rhodes asked, “Something come up?”

“Yeah, Tony was going to call with more information, but that was hours ago.” Steve said, checking his phone once again. He pulled up the app for him email just in case, but there was nothing.

“He probably crashed.” Rhodes said. At Steve’s horrified face, he backtracked, “I mean he probably passed out. He can obsess to the point where he doesn’t realize that he hasn’t slept in a week and just passes out. He’s probably fine.”

“Yeah.” Steve said, frowning. He looked down at his phone and shook his head, stowing it in his pocket, “He’s probably fine.”

“Have you tried calling Pepper?” Rhodes asked, “She usually knows what he’s doing.”

“I haven’t tried.” Steve said, “I kind of get the impression that she doesn’t like me.”

Rhodes raised an eyebrow, “Really? I thought you two would get on like a house on fire.” he said, “Are you sure you’re reading her right?”

Steve shrugged, “I’m not good at talking to women.” he admitted, “Never really have been. And she always seemed a little . . . distant? I guess would be the right word?”

Rhodes seemed to consider that, “Doesn’t really sound like Pep.” he said, “I suppose I could call, if you want.”

“No, I’ll call her.” Steve said. He took out his phone once again and walked out of the room to have some privacy. He took a deep breath and dialed Pepper’s number. He knew the number was in his contacts, but he liked to dial it himself.

“Hello Captain.” came Pepper’s voice, sounding a little thin, like she had been crying, but steady and controlled, “What can I help you with?”

“Ms. Potts.” Steve answered, “Do you know where Tony is? He won’t answer his phone and he said he had more information about the Uzbekistan mission.”

Pepper sucked in a breath, “Tony’s fine.” she said, though it came out sounding clipped, “He’s driving up to the compound right now. He should be there in another hour or two.”

Steve blinked, “He’s coming here? Why?”

“It’s better if he tells you.” Pepper said, “Will that be all, Captain?”

“I—yes, thank you Ms. Potts.” Steve said. They exchanged polite goodbyes and hung up. He was glad to know that Tony was alive and well, but he wasn’t sure what it meant that Tony was heading to the compound directly. He stowed his phone and walked toward the main entrance. Someone should be there to welcome him in at least; it was the polite thing to do.

 

* * *

 

 

Wanda sat in her room, trying to meditate, but not having much luck. The events of yesterday weighed heavily on her mind, and she couldn’t shake them off enough to concentrate.

Had she been hallucinating, when she heard and felt her brother? It had felt so real, and she had used her powers to bring him forth, it had taken _effort_ to bring the apparition forward. However, it was that very thing that cast her mind in doubt; her powers were based on the mind, and even her own mind might be susceptible if she wasn’t paying attention. Had she only heard and felt what she wanted to feel? She had learned from the Captain and the others that her powers could make things feel very, _very_ real. Perhaps she had tricked herself.

And then there was the wound and the darkness. She had read up on grief, and many writers and poets had all spoken of the loss of a loved one like losing a limb, or some other such thing, but it didn’t seem like they meant it in a literal sense. Wanda brushed against the wound and gasped a little at the white hot pain that lanced through her.

The wound was _very_ real.

But what was it?

The blackness was something else entirely, but she suspected it might be something of her own doing. A manifestation of her depression made dangerously alive by her own power. It was a nice theory, and certainly plausible, but she had no idea how to test that theory, and she didn’t want to bother the others with her problems. She could figure out how to control it herself.

Giving up on meditation for now, Wanda stood and began pacing about her room. The wound followed her, a fixed point at her side, throbbing and aching. She could almost see it, if she squinted and unfocussed her eyes in just the right way; but when she turned her head, it fled from her vision. It was quite the curious thing; constantly in her perception, but intangible and invisible, like there was nothing there.

Once, she had tried to use her powers to make it stay put while she looked at it, but reaching her power toward it had given her such a shock that she had never tried again. It was like something had sucked the breath from her lungs and made her heart stop and yanked her body forward all at once. It hadn’t exactly been painful, per se, but the sensation had been so jarring that she feared trying it again.

Wanda closed her eyes and thought to the previous day in the forest; the wound had throbbed and had acted strange while she had felt her brother with her, and she could tell that it was connected to the events yesterday, but she wasn’t sure how. It was all so confusing and she had no one to talk to about it.

Briefly, she considered going to Natasha, but she wasn’t sure how the woman would take it. She might believe her, or she might think that she was crazy and recommend that she leave the team behind _altogether_.

If she left the team, she’d have nowhere to go.

Shaking her head, she crossed the room to her little kitchen to get a glass of water. She wouldn’t say anything for now, though she would pay closer attention to what was happening with her powers.

A knock at the door forced her attention away from her thoughts. Thinking it might be Natasha again, she padded to the door and opened it a crack.

“Vision.” she said, upon seeing the not-human standing outside her door, “What are you doing here?”

Vision watched her curiously, his strange eyes seeming to penetrate right through her. She found she was growing to like being around the android, or ‘synthezoid’, as he had proclaimed himself; his mind was harder for her to read, which was actually soothing most of the time. He was also less guarded around her than the others. He only knew her after she had come to help the Avengers, and she couldn’t infiltrate his mind like she could the others. His presence was soothing to her when she couldn’t stand to be around others.

“I have come to speak with you.” Vision said finally, crisp British accent rolling smoothly off of his tongue, “Is now an acceptable time?”

“Now is fine.” Wanda said, stepping aside to let him in, “What did you need?”

Vision looked back at her, somehow looking a little shy, “I was wondering if I could perhaps ask a favor of you?” he finally said. His body language was hard to read, but Wanda though he would be fidgeting if he were human.

“What sort of favor?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Now he really did fidget, she noticed; he ran the tip of one finger along the edge of his cape, not seeming to notice that he was doing it. It almost made her smile, but she kept her face neutral and waited for him to speak.

“I would like you to try and determine if I have emotions.” he said finally, abruptly, but not rushed.

Wanda blinked, “You want to go into your mind and see if you feel emotions?” she asked, “Why?”

Vision tilted his head as he regarded her, “I wish to _know_ , Miss Maximoff.” he said, “I have no frame of reference to judge whether or not I have emotions. Humans grow up knowing they have emotions, they react to stimuli in learned and involuntary ways. I have not had this experience. I cannot know if I am capable of emotions, not in the way that humans grow up knowing they feel emotions.” he said, “I wish to know if I am more human or more machine.”

Wanda looked at him, surprised by the outburst of honesty. It was a fair request, she figured. He couldn’t get a brain scan, or be tested in the ways humans could, but he knew that she could somewhat read his mind, and however stilted it was, it was his best bet to answering his question.

“Sit down.” she instructed, gesturing to the chair. He obeyed, watching her cross the room and sit across from him, “I am going to delve into your mind, I will see your privatemost thoughts. This does not bother you?”

“No.” Vision said, shaking his head, “I trust you, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda blinked and felt herself flush, feeling giddy for some reason. She forced it down, “Wanda. You may call me Wanda.” she said.

Vision tilted his head, and then smiled at her, his synthetic cheeks pulling back to show his odd teeth. Why a synthezoid who didn’t eat needed teeth was lost on her, “Wanda.” he said, “Thank you.”

She smiled back and scooted forward, bringing her hands up, “This might feel strange.” she said. She had never really gone into Vision’s mind, not since the first time she had touched it while he was still in the Cradle. She didn’t suppose that counted, seeing as Vision technically hadn’t been born yet and it was Ultron’s mind that she had been seeing through the proxy of Vision.

Bracing herself, she let her power flow into Vision, touching her fingertips to his face, her thumb caressing his cheek, feeling the minute twitches of his body reacting to her. He closed his eyes and she could feel him calm himself down and let her in, clearing his mind of anything that might overwhelm her. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at that; she closed her eyes and concentrated, searching for the answer to his question.

At first, she couldn’t feel much of anything, but as her mind adjusted to the strangeness of his, she began to get a better map of his mind. Through his eyes, she saw how he experienced the day; interacting with the Avengers and the others at the compound. She tried to find the emotion behind the memories, but the overwhelming sense of wonder distracted her. Vision was constantly surprised and amazed by humans, in all of their complexity. He stored every detail about everyone he met, analyzing and pondering it until every possible explanation occurred to him and then some. He did it with such dedication that she had to giggle a little at the child-likeness of it, the way he simply had to _know_.

“What is it?” Vision asked, curious about her reaction.

“Sorry, it’s just that your mind is a wonder.” Wanda said, not opening her eyes.

“Is it?” Vision asked, and he opened his eyes to look at her and she gasped.

Information flooded her mind; she saw herself sitting across from him in real time, eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration. Her eyes snapped open and she looked at herself. Her powers slipped the tiniest bit and their minds _connected_. H(er/is) eyes widened and they were both flooded with the warmth of h(er/is) powers and the rush of h(er/is) mind.

 _BeautyAmazingAffectionPowerfulWantHelpAmazingBraveWonderAffectionBeautyHappyLove(?)MaybeCouldn’tbeHappinessMaybeAmazingWonderStrongAffectionCloseCloserMaybe_ flitted across h(er/is) mind rapidly, startling h(er/im). H(er/is) skin tingled where h(er/is) bodies touched, hearts pounding in h(er/is) chest. Looking out of two sets of eyes into one another was an experience in itself. In that moment, (s)he became completely aware of the emotions coursing through h(er/is) body. How could (s)he have questioned h(er/im)self? The very thought made h(er/im) laugh, both bodies letting out the noise in tandem. The sensation was so odd that (s)he jerked back for a nanosecond and one split back into two.

Wanda reeled back, gasping for breath, heart pounding. Vision sat ramrod straight, just as surprised as she was. They looked at one another in disbelief and shock, trying to comprehend what had just transpired between the two of them.

Vision abruptly stood, “Thank you Wanda. This has been enlightening. I shall leave you now.” he said, turning and phasing right through the chair he would have tripped over otherwise. He phased through the wall, not seeming to realising that he had only phased into the next room instead of the hall.

Wanda blinked and stared at the wall where he’d disappeared. Now fully understanding his mind, she understood that he was _embarrassed_ by what had just happened between them. She could sense it, fading quickly as he got further from her; the notion was so bizarre that she burst out into hysteric laughter. She collapsed back into her chair, gasping for breath as she howled. Tears squeezed from her eyes and she reached up to wipe them away.

Finally calming down, Wanda felt light and airy, in a way that she hadn’t in a very long time. Standing up, slightly jelly-legged, she walked to get herself another glass of water. She tried to recall everything that had passed through their collected mind while they had been connected. It was slipping away now, like a dream, but leaving an impression that Wanda was sure was pleasant. She closed her eyes and let the feeling wash over her.

It took her a moment to realize that the blackness was completely gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Clint strutted down the ramp into the hangar like he hadn’t been complaining about his mode of transportation for the last three hours. Natasha was waiting for him, arms crossed, shoulders relaxed, feet slightly apart, face neutral.

She was laughing at him, the bitch.

Clint signed the insult at her and the corner of her mouth twitched. They fell into step next to one another as she led him through the compound to the room he’d be staying in. His body remembered exactly how to pace himself to keep in step with her slightly shorter gait. He had to admit that he’d missed her, more than he’d missed being an Avenger, which he also missed.

She finally stopped at a room and opened the door. He’d bet everything he owned that hers was right across from his or the suite to his left. He grinned and walked into the offered suite.

“So what’s the situation?” he asked, fishing around in his duffle for his aids.

Natasha waited until he was facing her to start talking, “Mostly what I told you over the phone. Hydra and A.I.M. have a secluded base in Uzbekistan and they’ve been stealing technology for reasons we aren’t sure. When I went in, there was all sorts of magic paraphernalia that’s led us to believe they’re trying to combine technology with some kind of magic, possibly to open portals.” she said, “The only thing that doesn’t really add up is that they stole Dr. Cho’s Cradle.”

“The Cradle?” Clint asked, finally finding his aids and putting them in, “How does that tie into portals?”

Natasha shrugged, “We aren’t sure.  Tony is getting more info for us, but there’s barely anything there to begin with. The only way we found these guys is because of an error when they stole the Cradle. This base isn’t in any of the Hydra databases or the A.I.M. network. We’re flying blind here.”

Clint grumbled, “Fan-freaking-tastic.” he said, “So what do we know?”

“There’s a witch at the base.” Natasha said. Clint gave her a look but she just met his eyes evenly. He raised a brow and she mirrored him.

“Well damn.” he said, “We know what this witch wants?” he asked.

Natasha shifted now and he leaned in closer; something was making her nervous. He waited patiently for her to elaborate.

“She seems to want Wanda.” Natasha said, and Clint could tell from the way she flexed her hands that she would do anything to prevent that from happening, “She said something about bringing her ‘next time’. And Steve has elected to take her along because we need her expertise on magic on site.”

Clint stood and crossed over to her, “So we keep Wanda out of it.” he said, “We find this witch and keep her away from Wanda as much as we can.”

Natasha nodded, “That’s about the size of it.” she said.

Clint nodded, “You want me guarding the witch or guarding the girl?” he asked.

Natasha considered it for a moment, “We need you inside the base. The hallways are long and straight, so you’ll come in handy.”

Clint nodded, “Nice to be of use.” he said, sitting back down on the couch and getting out his gear. He started to clean his bow.

Natasha sat next to him and waited. She leaned slightly into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Clint said nothing and continued cleaning and checking his bow. They were heading into a desert, so he’d have to account for the sand. He’d never been to Uzbekistan, so he hoped the sand was packed down instead of loose. Clint could feel Natasha relax against him, dozing lightly, letting him lead wherever the conversation needed to go.

“I had to leave.” Clint said eventually, “Place was getting a little crowded, you know?”

Natasha hummed, “We both know that’s crap.” she said.

Clint let out a forceful sigh, “Well, it’s the best I’ve got, okay.” he snapped. Natasha didn’t tense at all, knowing he was all bark, but she did sit up and give him a hard stare.

“Clint.” she said firmly, green eyes narrowing. Clint tried not to succumb, but resisting Natasha was like resisting the urge to blink.

“What do you even need me for?” he asked, “You’ve got Cap and War Machine and Scarlet Witch and Vision, what do you need with a guy who fights with a bow and arrow?”

And Natasha looked so _sad_ at that and this was what he’d been afraid of. He turned away and refocused on his bow, inspecting it for scratches and imperfections and anything that could make it not in perfect working order. Natasha stood and wedged herself behind him, slender hands trailing up his arms to close around his wrists. She laid her cheek against his back, listening to him breathe; he leaned back into her, twisting his head so he caught a whiff of her shampoo, salon quality because it was the one little luxury she allowed herself over everything else. Slowly, she pushed herself up so they were face to face, stopping just short of leaning forward, letting him decide. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was frustrated; frustrated with his life and everything that had happened and all the wrong choices he had made and the way that he missed it.

He _missed_ being an Avenger. He missed being a hero, saving the day and running beside geniuses and legends and _gods_ , like he wasn’t an ordinary man.

“I’m just a guy, Nat.” Clint said, “Just a dumb carny who can shoot straight. What the hell was I doing? Thinking I could run along with people like you and them. I must be crazy.”

“The right kind of crazy.” she said, “And if you’re crazy, then so are the rest of us.”

She shifted and bumped their foreheads together, twisting her body a little so it was more comfortable, “You’re not just a guy who can shoot straight, you’re Hawkeye.” she said, “In the same way that Steve’s not just a super soldier, he’s Captain America. Tony’s not just a genius in a suit of armor, he’s Iron Man. Thor is . . . well, he’s Thor, but he’s the exception.” and that managed to get a laugh out of him, “And what about me? Am I just an assassin? Am I just the weapon they made me to be?”

Clint stared into her eyes, blue into green, slowing his breathing to match hers. It had been a long time since they had been this close, but his body remembered and reacted to her; his eyes dilated and his heart picked up, wanting her, waiting for her. He slipped his wrists from her hands and tugged her over onto his lap, letting his bow fall in a controlled slide to the floor. Natasha went willingly, moving with him instead of letting him simply direct her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and bumped their heads together again. He could see the tiny white scar on her cheek from when they first met, from his own arrow.

“Am I a monster? Or am I Black Widow?” she asked, and he _knew_ what that meant to her. What it meant that one was not the same as the other, not anymore. He slid his arms around her ribs and pulled her flush against him.

“You’re Black Widow.” he said, voice barely more than a whisper.

Natasha smiled at him, “And you’re Hawkeye.” she said, “We’re all a little crazy here.”

Clint chuckled, “Yeah, I’m getting that.” he said.

Natasha nuzzled their noses together, “You want to go bed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Clint blinked, “You want to? Shouldn’t we go find the others first?” he asked.

“Well, we can, but you’re kind of poking me in the butt, so I figured you wanted to have some fun first.” Natasha said, looking so smug that he almost wanted to say no just to spite her.

“You’re a terrible person.” he teased. He adjusted his grip on her and lifted her up, ducking down to steal a kiss.

She laughed into his mouth before deepening the kiss, probably smearing his lips with her lipstick. He didn’t care all that much, carrying her to the bed and tossing her down onto it, laughing as she flailed at the sudden drop, then yelping as she dragged him down on top of her.

“I missed you.” she said, pushing up to kiss him again.

“I missed you too.” he said, “I missed this.”

Natasha gave him a knowing smiled and pulled him close, letting him settle his weight over top of her. Work could come later, right now he needed to remember some familiar territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Clint/Natasha, but I see them more as platonic soulmates who sometimes bang. It's almost like friends with benefits, but they're really close. They love each other, but they would be happy if the other ended up with someone else (so long as that person treated them right). IDK if I'm explaining it right, but they're best friends, the sex part is more of an after thought.


	8. Guilty Displeasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but I can't think of anything to add on to this. I'm saving the stuff with Vision for another chapter, so I had to end it where it is. I hate it when a story won't cooperate with you.

Natasha hummed and rolled over, reaching for her pants that had been tossed aside at some point. She was never exactly sure how Clint could get her undressed so quickly, he had very deft fingers. She pulled them on and began searching for the rest of her clothes.

“Leaving so soon?” Clint purred from the bed, stretching languidly and watching her with a look of smugness.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “I have to go check on Wanda. I want to make sure she’s not having a bad day.” she explained.

Clint nodded, face going pensive, “Maybe I should go and see her. After all it was my fault that—“ he stopped talking and sat up a little, “It’s my fault.”

“It was not your fault.” Natasha said, sitting down on the bed next to him, “What we do is dangerous. It could have been any one of us.”

“But they’re just kids Nat.” Clint said, “They’re barely eighteen. I should have been paying more attention.”

“You couldn’t have done anything Clint.” Nat said, rubbing his shoulder, “It was their choice to help us, and it was his choice to put himself in front of you. You can’t be held responsible for that.”

Clint shook his head, “No, I am responsible. If not for his death, then for her.” he said, standing up and pacing around, unashamed of his nakedness, “She’s lost everything in her world, and it’s because of me, whether it’s my fault or not. I shouldn’t have left without making sure she was okay. I got her and her brother into this whole mess, and I’ll be damned if I let her down.” he said, turning toward the door, determination etched in every line of his body.

“Clint wait.” Natasha called, getting up. He turned to her, clearly annoyed by the delay in his master plan; she raised an eyebrow at him, “Pants?” she suggested.

The archer blinked, “Yes.” he said, walking back into the room to find his clothing, “I knew that. Was just testing you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and flung his underwear at his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve let out a sigh of relief when he finally saw Tony’s car pull into the garage. He walked forward and immediately knew that something was wrong when the other man stepped out of the fancy sports car.

“Tony?” he called, “Are you okay?”

Tony jerked when Steve spoke, like he hadn’t seen him. He whipped around and put on a big, flashy, _fake_ smile, “Hey Steve! How you been? Sorry about not texting, got excited and just had to drive up to see you. You’ll never believe what I found out.” he slipped passed Steve, narrowly avoiding being grabbed by the bigger man, “You know I should install F.R.I.D.A.Y. way out here, make things a lot easier. Communication would be much more streamlined, and don’t tell me you guys don’t need it, I know you guys all got used to J.A.R.V.I.S. and enjoyed having him do shit for you. Hey, you know—“

“Tony.” Steve said, finally managing to catch his arm and hold on (Tony was slippery when he was determined), “Have you been drinking?”

Tony froze, smile slipping from his face. He tried to hold Steve’s gaze, but he crumpled and looked away, his body tensing. Steve felt a wave of sadness and pity wash through him, “Tony, what happened? You were doing so well.”

In the last few years since the Avengers formed, Tony’s drinking had become a noticeable problem and source of friction between the team. A year and a half ago, they had finally convinced Tony to give it up after he’d nearly burned the tower down after getting too boozed up to remember that he’d left a soldering gun on next to some papers. The first month and a half had been extremely rough on Tony, and by extension the rest of them, but they had gotten through it. In Steve’s opinion, it was what had initially made them friends instead of coworkers; banding together to help one of their own through a tough time. Once Tony’s more violent withdrawal symptoms had subsided, they’d all come out of it a lot closer than before.

And now Tony was throwing that away.

“What happened Tony?” Steve repeated, voice stern with worry.

Tony didn’t answer, but he didn’t try to pry himself from Steve’s grip. Not that he could, Steve being the super soldier that he was, but the bigger man wasn’t exactly holding on with all of his strength, “It’s not a big deal, Capsicle, just a little one.” he said, trying to smile.

“Tony, you _drove_ here drunk? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Steve resisted shouting, but only just barely, his heart leaping into his throat.

“Maybe I am! Who cares!?” Tony shouted back, shoving Steve with his free hand.

Steve stepped back, not from the shove, but from the shock. He tightened his grip on Tony’s elbow, pulling him close, forcing him to step into his space, “What happened?” he demanded.

Tony resisted and refused to look up at Steve, keeping his head turned away in that way that he did when he knew he was cornered and didn’t have an out. Few people could trap him like that, and Steve hated to see him like this, but the idea of a fiery wreck with Tony’s mangled body trapped inside was playing at the back of Steve’s mind and it _terrified_ him. The thought of losing one of the first and best friends he had in this world made his chest feel tight like he was having an asthma attack and heart palpitations all at once.

He finally relaxed and slackened his grip. He could feel Tony tense to bolt and reacted quickly, wrapping his arms around the other man and holding him in a loose embrace, so it didn’t feel like he was holding Tony down, but keeping him there, either out of shock or from a deeply buried desire for actual human contact.

“Tony please.” Steve begged, “What happened?”

Tony kept tense for a few moments longer, then melted into Steve’s embrace, arms listlessly coming up to wrap around Steve’s ribs. Steve resisted the urge to tighten his grip on the smaller man and let Tony work himself up to it.

“Pepper and I broke up.” Tony said, and God did he sound awful, “She couldn’t handle all this hot mess and I don’t blame her for it.”

“Aw Tony.” Steve said, rubbing his back, “You’re not a hot mess.”

“I am so a hot mess Rogers, do you even know me? I am offended, I take offence to that.” Tony said, stepping out of the embrace. He seemed steadier on his feet.

Steve smiled, “Okay Tony. Why don’t we get you settled in and get you a glass of water?” he suggested, “You look like you need to sit down. Or a nap.”

“Sitting’s good, I can do that. Let’s go sit.” Tony said, and he let Steve take his elbow again and lead him through the compound. If he leaned into him a little, well, it wasn’t like Steve was going to complain.

 

* * *

 

 

When Wanda answered the door, she expected Natasha, or perhaps Sam (or maybe even Vision again), and while she wasn’t surprised to see Natasha at her door, it was a different story with Hawkeye.

“Hey kid.” he said, smiling at her, “How have you been?”

For a moment, she was too stunned to say anything. She looked to Natasha for some kind of direction. Natasha gave her a subtle nod, her way of saying that it was okay to trust the situation, and stepped aside to let them both inside.

“I have been fine.” she said, “Sam showed me Star Wars.”

“Did you like it?” Barton asked. Natasha headed straight inside and sat down, clearly comfortable in this space, while Barton lingered near her. Far enough away to be non-threatening, but close enough to show actual interest in her.

Wanda shrugged, “I suppose. It was a very good story, and the effects were very nice, but I had trouble following what they said sometimes.” she said.

Barton hummed, “Yeah I know a lot of people have the same issue when learning a new language. Can you read English okay?” he asked.

Wanda shuffled her feet, “They only taught us to speak English.” she said quietly, a little embarrassed.

Barton nodded, “That’s okay. We’ll get you some books or something. Sound good?”

Wanda gave a small nod. She glanced over at Natasha and finally worked up the courage to ask, “Why are you here?”

Barton ran a hand through his hair, “I wanted to check on you. See how you were doing. Natasha says you’ve been having a rough time lately and I wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.”

He was lying to her, or at least he wasn’t telling her the entire truth. She was getting better at using her power to read specific thoughts, but she couldn’t see what he wasn’t telling her. In fact, if she concentrated a little more, even Natasha was avoiding telling her something.

“I’m fine.” she said, “I’m . . . getting better.”

Barton smiled, “Good, that’s great.” he said. There was an awkward pause, then he gestured to the couches where Natasha was sitting, waiting for them. Wanda crossed the room and sat next to the older woman, glancing at her for guidance.

Natasha smiled kindly at her, “He just wanted to know that you’re okay.” she said, and it was still there, the feeling that something wasn’t being said.

“You’re lying to me.” Wanda blurted out, almost without meaning to. She glanced back at Barton, “What are you not telling me?”

Barton and Natasha looked at each other, communicating through facial expression alone. For a moment it reminded her so sharply of Pietro that she almost screamed at them. She forced the urge down and waited for them to decide what to do.

“Wanda.” Natasha said, leaning forward and taping her hand to make sure her entire attention was focussed on the other woman, “Are you sure you want to go on the mission?”

Wanda blinked, confused by the sudden shift, “Yes, I am needed.” she said.

Natasha and Barton shared another glanced and Wanda felt her temper flare, “If you do not tell me, I will take it from your minds.” she threatened.

“Hey now, no need for that.” Barton said, “We think there’s someone gunning for you at the base. We’re not sure, but it’s very likely.”

Wanda blinked, thinking about it, “The witch.” she said. Natasha nodded, “What would she want with me?”

“We aren’t sure.” Natasha said, “But we want you to be sure that you want to go on this mission. We can try and keep you safe, but it would be much safer if you went nowhere near that base.”

Wanda considered her options; it wasn’t exactly heartening to think of a strange witch that knew about her and wanted to meet her, but she remembered the intent behind the pouch given to Natasha, it hadn’t been hostile in the least. Even if she had given it to her with the intent of getting her out safely so she could bring Wanda there are a later time to do her harm, there would have been some sort of malice under everything else. Wanda had felt no malice or ill intent anywhere on the pouch. Of course, there might have been ways to mask it, or maybe Wanda just wasn’t skilled enough to find it, but there was no sense of ‘wrongness’ that usually came with that.

No, she didn’t believe the witch meant her any harm, but she couldn’t say that to the others, not yet at least. They wouldn’t believe her.

“I want to go.” she said, “I want to be helpful.”

Natasha nodded, “Alright. But remember what we talked about? You stay out of the fight. You’re still too unstable to be in the thick of it. We’ll have someone on standby to protect you.”

Wanda nodded, “I understand.” she said. She wanted to tell them that she was perfectly capable of defending herself, but there was too much at stake for her to be making demands. She needed to get into that base and find the witch.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony ran a hand through his hair. Steve had been considerate enough to take him to his suite rather than the common kitchen where everyone would be able to see him in this state. His head was pounding and his hands were shaking, and it was like the worst hangover he’d had, even though he’d only had two drinks at most.

“Feeling better?” Steve asked, setting a glass of water in front of him.

“Urg.” Tony grunted, reaching for the water and gulping it down, “My head is killing me.”

“Well, that’s your body’s way of punishing you for drinking again.” Steve said, pouring more water into the cup. He set down the pitcher and sat opposite of Tony, folding his hands in front of him like a disappointed parent, “Tony, how could you fall of the wagon like that? You’ve been doing so well.”

“I know.” Tony said with a long sigh, hating himself, “I messed up. I messed it all up.”

Steve got that pinched look on his face and reached forward, patting Tony’s hand in an attempt to console him. Tony managed a small smile, “I should have seen this coming. I should have known what Iron Man was doing to us. Fuck she was so happy when I gave it up after the Mandarin attacks, how could I go back to it?”

“We needed you. The world needed Iron Man.” Steve said, “There’s no shame in that Tony.”

Tony growled and took another sip of his water. The headache was receding slightly and his hands weren’t shaking so much now, “I know that, but I gave up the Avengers and I _still_ couldn’t do it. Look at me, turning back to you guys the minute there’s a whiff of trouble. I should have just handed the info to you and left it, but I couldn’t.” Tony let out a humorless chuckle, “Too damn curious for my own good.”

“Your input on the situation has been invaluable, Tony.” Steve said, “We wouldn’t even know where to begin if you weren’t on this with us.”

“But that’s the problem, I shouldn’t have to be.” Tony said, “I was supposed to stop and settle down with Pepper.” he said, “Give it all up. I thought that’s what I wanted, but . . . I couldn’t let it go.”

Steve let out a sigh, “Tony, you shouldn’t have to change for anyone, not even someone you love. Especially if what you’re doing is something you love, something that makes the world a better place.”

Tony looked up at Steve, eyes red and huge and filled with emotions that he refused to let overtake him. Steve smiled back at him, kind and warm and everything Tony needed growing up and never had. He felt himself smiling back, despite feeling like he wanted to crawl into a bottle and drown.

“Thank Steve.” he said, voice a little unsteady with emotion, “I think I’ll have another glass of water and lie down for a while, if you don’t mind. Can I borrow your couch?”

“Take the bed, I’m not using it right now.” Steve said, “I’ll make sure to bring you something to eat later, if you don’t want to join everyone for dinner.”

“Nah, I’ll face the music.” Tony said, draining his glass and standing up, “I should be awake by then, but come get me if I’m not.”

“Alright. Need anything else?” Steve asked, standing and taking his glass to the sink.

“Tylenol?” Tony said, “Something to kill the headache.”

“I have some in the cabinet.” Steve said, “I don’t really use it, so it should be full. It comes with the first aid kit that’s in all the suites.”

“You’re a peach.” Tony said, staggering to the bathroom to get the kit that was under the sink. He fished around, and sure enough, the Tylenol was completely unused. Everyday aches and pains: 0, super soldier: 1.

Steve just chuckled, “I’ll let you get some rest. Text or call if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Tony said as he popped two pills into his mouth and bent to get a drink directly from the tap. Steve chuckled again and shook his head. He gave one final nod to Tony and left the room, flicking the lights off as he went.

Tony groaned and stretched, finally letting himself feel how shitty he felt. He was sober now, but the damn shakes were still clinging on. He splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired, much more tired than he ever remembered himself being. His eyes were red and slightly puffy, though he didn’t remember crying. He was pale and gaunt and he wanted to sleep for a year. Groaning again, he pushed himself out of the bathroom and headed for the bed. Stripping his shoes and socks, he wondered how Steve would feel if he slept in his bed in only his boxers. Deciding that his clothes were gross and it would be worse anyway, he tugged off his shirt and tossed away his pants, leaving them on the floor to be dealt with later. Or never, Tony never really thought about these things. Throwing himself down on the bed, Tony closed his eyes and tried to relax into sleep. Surrounded by clean sheets that smelled like Steve, it didn’t take him long at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that RDJ might not want to go into that part of Tony Stark's character, but I still think it's important to the overall characterization. He's a recovering alcoholic and it's so important that it be remembered. I like fics where the team comes together to help Tony out of his addictions.


	9. Adult Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than anticipated. And got longer than expected. Ah well, the things we do for art.

It was evening before Tony emerged from his cocoon of sleepiness, wrapped in Steve’s sheets like the world’s biggest burrito. After using the facilities, he debated what to do about his clothing. On one hand, his own clothing, while relatively clean, was rumpled, and slacks and a button down dress shirt weren’t really that comfortable for lounging around in (which was more or less what he planned to do). On the other hand, his only other option was to borrow something of Steve’s, which was embarrassing on a few levels. Not only would it be giant on him (even with the fact that Steve seemed to like to wear his shirts a size or two too small, and had very slim hips for a guy his size), there was the odd intimacy of borrowing clothes that he didn’t think he and Steve had in their relationship thus far.

With a sigh, Tony finally relented and tried to find something small of Steve’s that didn’t look too well worn. He managed to find a plain black T-shirt and some neatly folded sweatpants that didn’t look like they’d been worn a lot. Quickly changing, he splashed his face once again and worked himself up to face the music.

He was both grateful and irritated that Rhodey was the only one in the kitchen when he arrived there; grateful because Rhodey was his best friend and would be the most understanding, but irritated because Rhodey was his best friend and would know exactly which buttons to push.

The other man looked up at him and smiled, “Hey man, Steve said you came in. He was worried about you.” he said, getting up and crossing to give him a short hug, “What the hell happened man? You look like shit.”

Tony considered lying about it, but he knew it would be pointless in the long run, and right now he didn’t have the energy to dance around it, “Pepper and I broke up and then I fell off the wagon.” he said, hoping he looked pathetic enough to garner sympathy instead of indignation.

“What? What the hell man, you were doing so good.” Rhodey said, looking both worried and affronted at the same time.

“Coffee first, then exposition.” Tony groaned, reaching up to rub his eyes. Rhodey rolled his eyes and brought them to the counter to the fancy coffee maker that Tony had got for everyone at the base.

“So?” Rhodey asked as they sat down with their coffee. Tony stalled as long as he could by taking a long sip of coffee. Rhodey, for his part, didn’t look fooled.

“Pepper broke it off.” he finally admitted, “No surprise there. I was focusing on this,” he gestured to the compound at large, “too much and she got fed up.”

“Yikes.” Rhodey said, “Yeah, she was pretty pissed when you got back in after S.H.E.I.L.D. went down.”

“I wanted to help.” Tony insisted, “I _needed_ to help.”

“Hey man, I’m not saying you’re in the wrong here.” Rhodey said, putting up a hand, “I’m saying that you made a choice and she made a choice and that’s how adult relationships work, for better or worse.”

Tony groaned and thunked his head down on the countertop, “I don’t want to be an adult.” he whined, feeling Rhodey pat the back of his head in a comforting, if patronizing, manner.

“No one wants to be an adult.” he said, “Anyway, if you want to be Iron Man again, the team won’t say no. There’s no quota on mechanized suits of armor. But you have to make that decision for you, Tony, not for anyone else.”

Tony looked up at him and he continued, “Tony, I’ve known you since you were getting drunk at frat parties and back sassing your professors, and I have never seen you come into your own as much as you have since you became Iron Man.” he said, “Tony, you went from one of the most irresponsible, selfish people I know—“ “Gee _thanks_ buddy.” “(Shut up) to a goddamned _superhero_. If that’s not personal growth, then I don’t know what is. I mean, at first I was pretty pissed that you stopped making weapons, but having watched you these last couple of years, I think I can honestly say that it was the best decision you ever made with your life. I’m proud of you man.”

Tony sat up a little and stared at his friend, “Thanks Rhodey.” he said, a little stunned, “That . . . actually helps.”

Rhodey grinned and shrugged, “What are friends for?” he said, sipping his coffee, “So you came out here to, what, run away?”

“Get some space.” Tony replied, “It’ll take a while for Pepper to find her own place and the Tower isn’t that big, especially with all the repairs going on.” he said, “So I figured I’d come out here and get some distance, figure out what I’m doing. Isn’t that the responsible thing to do?”

“You kind of missed it by a little, but yeah, just about.” Rhodey said, “So what’s this about you falling off the wagon? You were doing so well.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Tony groaned, “Steve already chewed me out for it.”

“Damn right.” Rhodey said, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I just got dumped by the only woman I think I ever loved and that my life is a complete disaster.” Tony deadpanned.

“Fair enough, but it was still stupid.” Rhodey accused, “You could have been killed.”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah, that occurred to me.”

“And you still did it?” Rhodey grumbled, but then he went still, face melting into one of mild horror, “Tony, is this another Code Blue situation?”

“No no, not that bad.” Tony said, waving his hand dismissively, “Maybe a Code Light Blue? Code Off-White? Whatever, not a Code Blue.” he said.

Rhodey eyed him suspiciously, “If you say so.” he said, but he didn’t look convinced, “But you’ll tell me if it gets to a Code Blue, right?”

“Rhodey, that’s what we made Code Blue for.” Tony said, “So I could tell you when it got bad.”

“Right.” Rhodey said, “Forgive me for being worried about my best friend.”

“Aw, Honey-Bear, it’s so nice to know you care.” Tony crooned, grinning and glad that the tension had passed.

Rhodey rolled his eyes, “You always have to make it weird, don’t you?”

Tony shrugged, “It’s my superpower.”

 

* * *

 

Wanda was surprised to see Stark in the kitchen, casually speaking with Rhodes over coffee. She knew that he was assisting with the mission, but she had thought that he was doing long distance due to his personal life.

She wasn’t sure what her relationship to Mr. Stark was. She had fought beside him, and he had set her up for the rest of her life financially, but he was still the name that haunted her nightmares. The magnitude to which he had influenced her life, indirectly or otherwise, was hard to let go. She wanted to forgive him, but in the privacy of her mind, the frightened little girl inside of her wanted to make him responsible for all that had gone wrong in her life.

“Hey Tony, when did you get in?” Clint asked, stepping around from behind her and crossing to wear Stark was.

“This morning.” Tony answered smiling up at his friend, “What cat dragged you in?”

“That one.” Clint said, jerking his thumb at Natasha. She raised an eyebrow at him and set about making two cups of tea. Wanda kept close to her side.

“I guess neither of us can keep out of the life for long.” Tony said. He noticed Wanda and smiled at her, “Hey kid, how’re you doing?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away and looked to Natasha. The older woman gave her a quirked brow and she forced herself to say that she was doing fine. She couldn’t expect Natasha to always be there to coddle her when she was uncomfortable.

“Great.” Tony said, “Rhodey was saying you weren’t feeling too well lately and that’s why they called in Robin Hood here.”

“Laugh it up Shellhead, they still called me before they called you.” Clint said.

Wanda shrugged, “I am restricted from active duty.” she said, “No combat.”

“Yeah, that always sucks.” Tony said, getting up and refilling his mug of coffee, “I remember getting benched a few times. It’s never fun.”

“You were benched because of a head injury.” Natasha said, “You could barely walk a straight line.”

“The suit has natural equilibrium.” Tony said, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t you barf inside the helmet?” Clint asked, chuckling, “And it got everywhere?”

Tony glared, “Why do you hate me? Do you want to back to your shitty S.H.E.I.L.D. tech arrows and hearing aids? Because I can cut you off.”

Clint snorted, “You’re a terrible sugar daddy, you know that?”

“And you’re the worst sugar baby, you don’t even put out.” Tony retorted. The four of them, Tony, Natasha, Clint, and Rhodes, devolved into a friendly argument, with Wanda watching from the sidelines. It all seemed to be good natured banter, so she sipped her tea and just listened to them rib each other.

“Hey, what’s all the noise?” Steve called, walking into the kitchen, “Hey Tony, you’re up. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Borrowed your clothes though, sorry.” Tony said, gesturing to his state of dress.

Steve shook his head, “That’s fine. I barely wear that shirt.”

“Why, is it not an extra small?” Rhodes teased, enacting a laugh from everyone, “Seriously man, we can all see your boobs.”

“Hey now, don’t be hasty.” Natasha said, “We wouldn’t want to deprive the world of the glorious sight of Captain America in a tight shirt.”

“Here here.” Tony cheered, raising his mug.

“Who ordered the party?” Sam called, walking in and elbowing Steve as he passed, “I gotta stop running with you man, you are the worst partner.”

Steve laughed, “You just can’t keep up.” he said, “Slow poke.”

“Hey, I came in third in my unit’s hundred meter dash. You are a freak.” Sam said, heading for the fridge to get a bottle of orange juice.

“Hey Sam.” Steve called, waiting for the other man to look up, “On your left.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’—“ Sam started, looking ready to leap over the counter and beat Steve with his bottle of juice when Vision walked in, attracted by the large amount of people gathered in one place.

“Now it’s a party.” Tony said, “Teams all here.”

“I heard everyone’s voices coming from the kitchen. Was there a team meeting that I was unaware of?” Vision asked, watching them curiously.

“No, not at all.” Steve said, “We just sort of all ended up here.”

Vision tilted his head curiously, but he stayed in the room as everyone started talking again, sometimes over one another. Wanda caught his eye and she swore he might have blushed, were he human. She couldn’t help but giggle at the idea. She made her way over to him and stood at his side.

“It is interesting to watch, is it not?” she said, looking up at him.

Vision didn’t look down at her, “Yes, it is quite enlightening.” he said.

“You seem to like that word, ‘enlightening’.” she said, “You used it yesterday.”

Vision didn’t shift on his feet or otherwise give away that he was nervous, but Wanda could feel it rolling off of him, “Yes, well, I— that is to say— it is— well.” he stuttered, still refusing to look at her. It was so bizarre to see the normally composed and stoic synthezoid so flustered, and she couldn’t help but giggle. He finally looked down at her.

“I want to say thank you.” he said, “I came to you to learn about myself, and you showed me more than I could have ever hoped. I believe I understand myself better now, and it’s thanks to you, Wanda.”

Wanda felt her face heat, suddenly aware of the fact that Vision, as inhuman as he was, was still somehow a man, and was subject to the feelings of men. She had never had time for men other than her brother, and the only men who had ever shown interest in her had not been the kind of men that she ever wanted to associate with. Steve and Sam and the other male Avengers were so much older than her (though that never seemed to stop some other men) and treated her more like a child than a woman. Vision was not older than her, and his body could not be measured to the same standards. She was probably the closest relationship he had, and from delving so deeply into his mind, she knew that he could feel love, even romantic love, if he was so inclined. They had even been intimate, in a way, and the reality of that rushed up Wanda’s throat and seized her breath.

“Y-you’re welcome.” she choked out, heart pounding. She looked back at the rest of the team, still casually arguing, now about Natasha’s penchant for owning no casual clothing of her own, but simply stealing from the others clean laundry and putting it back once she was done with it.

She and Vision stood on the periphery of the commotion, watching the rest of the team laugh and joke with one another. They were two of them outsiders, not unwelcome, but new, and uncertain. Natasha looked up and caught her eye. She smiled at them and motioned that they join them at the table with the others. Wanda spared a glance up at Vision and he was looking back down at her. She managed a small smile and strode forward to join the rest of the team. At her side, she felt Vision fall into step with her.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, the entire team, including Tony and Clint, gathered in the large meeting room to finally put together a plan of attack.

Steve went to the front of the room, tablet in had to direct the Hard Light Display that was built in to the conference table. He tapped on the tablet and a 3D map of the compound came into view.

“This is the entirety of the compound that we know about. We know all of the rooms, thanks to schematics that Natasha managed to pull during recon, but we have no idea what we’re charging into. We don’t know their weapons capacity, and we don’t know what they’re doing with the technology and magic.”

“So we break about even on advantage.” Clint piped up, earning a chuckle from the rest of the room.

Steve smiled, “Yeah, just about. But I want everyone to be on their toes about this. There is an unknown element that we’re dealing with in the form of a witch.” a few taps on the tablet brought up pictures of the pouch Natasha had carried out of the compound with her and an aerial photo of the pentagram around the compound entrance, “We have no idea what sort of power this mysticism has, but we’re fairly certain that it has something to do with portals to other dimensions, similar to the Bifrost that Thor uses to travel to Asgard.” he explained, “Our objective is to incapacitate the compound’s forces, capture as many hostiles for questioning as possible, and discover what exactly they’ve been doing down there.”

“We’ll split into two teams, ground and aerial. Myself, Black Widow, Vision, and Hawkeye will head inside and knock out any teeth that the compound has. War Machine and Falcon will remain outside to catch any hostiles that make a break for it. The base only has one entrance, so anyone coming in or out has to go through there. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Man, we’re getting the soft gig?” Sam complained, “Lame.”

“You’re specific skills won’t be as much use in the cramped halls.” Steve said, “We need you outside where you’re better served taking out stragglers and guarding our consultants.”

“That’s us.” Tony said, waving casually.

“Scarlet Witch and Stark will be on sight to consult on the technology and the mysticism.” Steve continued, “But they will not be engaging in combat. Consulting only.” his voice took on a warning tone and Wanda nodded, while Tony rolled his eyes, “War Machine and Falcon’s secondary mission will be to guard them, in case things go sideways.”

“Tony sitting, something I’m good at.” Rhodes said to no one in particular, but the room laughed.

“Aw Honey-Bear, you know you’re my boo.” Tony cooed.

“Damn well better be.” Rhodes grumbled, earning another laugh.

Steve smiled and shook his head; he went over a few more points before wrapping up, “We leave tomorrow morning. Have a good meal, get some rest, and be up early.”

The HLD switched off and the team began to disperse. Tony got up and crossed to Steve.

“You know I don’t have my suit, I can’t go into the firefight with you guys.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Steve gave him a look, “You have an uncanny ability to find trouble no matter what you do, Tony.” he said, “You would find a way, suit or not.”

Tony looked like he was about to protest, but then stopped, “Well, fine then.” he grumbled, then lowered his voice, “Anyway, Nat told me about the crazy witch that’s after Red Riding Hood. You want me to keep an eye on her?”

Steve spared a glance toward the girl in question, who was speaking with Natasha and Clint, “Yeah, just make sure she doesn’t try to run off.” he said, “We’re not sure what this witch wants, but it has something to do with Wanda. I don’t want her to get hurt, or lose her to an enemy agent.” he said, “Just keep an eye on her and contact me if anything happens.”

Tony nodded, “I’ll keep an eye on her.” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Vision lingered after the briefing, watching Stark and Captain Rogers converse. He had not been able to speak to the dark haired man since the whole business with Ultron, and he was beginning to understand why. His newfound understanding of his own mind was having an unforeseen effect on him, in that he was beginning to develop empathy for his fellow sentient beings. The prospect was certainly frightening, but also exhilarating, and he knew of no one who might share that terror and exhilaration than the man who had helped bring him into being.

As Tony walked away from Steve, Vision managed to catch his eye, hoping to stop him and speak with hi, Stark looked away quickly, an avoidance tactic that left Vision slightly confused. After a moment he determined that he felt disappointed and a little offended by Stark’s reaction to him. A human, he imagined, might react with anger or sadness, but he didn’t think that would be productive. From what he knew of Stark, he figured the man might be difficult to connect with in a private setting.

He would have to be persistent.

“Mr. Stark?” he called, following him down the hall, floating when he didn’t seem to hear him (which was ridiculous, he was speaking at the optimal decibel level for this distance, unless of course Stark had acquired a hearing impairment since they had last been in contact) “Mr. Stark?” he repeated.

Stark stopped and sighed, letting Vision catch up to him in the hallway, “I would like to have a word with you.” he said, landing at his side but slightly in front, so he had Stark’s attention but didn’t seem like he was blocking his exit.

“Sorry Vision, kinda busy right now with the mission.” Stark said with an insincere smile, trying to dodge around the synthezoid.

“To my knowledge, none of us have any pressing matters until we leave for Uzbekistan.” Vision said, floating backwards so he kept pace with Stark.

The other man stopped again. “What do you want Vision?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

Vision hesitated, putting his words together in his mind, “I wanted to apologise.” he said eventually. At Stark’s surprised expression, he continued, “I’ve come to realize that my existence is dependent on the destruction of one of your greatest inventions and closest friends. For that I am deeply sorry.”

Stark, for his part, just seemed absolutely stunned speechless, a rare phenomenon with him. Vision waited patiently for his answer, “What the hell brought this on?” he finally asked, at a loss for anything else to say.

“I recently became more aware of my own emotional state, and thus I believe I am developing empathy.” Vision stated, “It’s a strange new state for me, and I find it confusing, but I find it fascinating as well. As you are the closest thing that I can consider a parental figure, I thought to inform you before anyone else.” he finished. When Stark didn’t say anything, he continued hesitantly, “Have I overstepped my boundaries?”

Stark seemed to snap himself out of whatever mental state he’d been in, “No, not really.” he said, though he didn’t look sure, “Empathy, you said? How are you sure?”

Vision felt a small thrill go through him at Stark’s interest, “I am not, to be honest.” he said, “I only recently became sure that I even had emotions. Wanda helped me understand with her neurological interface powers.”

“Did she? That’s interesting.” Stark said, becoming a little lost in thought.

“Yes, it was quite—“ Vision searched for the right ward, “Intimate.” he finally settled on.

Stark groaned and rubbed his eyes, “TMI Vihz, TMI.” he grumbled, “But good for you I guess? This is new territory for everyone involved, including you, so no one has any idea what’s going on, which is pretty par for the course if you think about it. No one has a clue about anything and we’re all going crazy. Anyway, Thanks I guess? For telling me?” he rattled on, unsure of what to say.

Seeming to gather his thoughts a little, he crossed over to stand right next to Vision. He rested a hand on his shoulder, looking up at him, serious and intent, “And listen to me, as someone who sort of created you, take this as the only fatherly advice I’ll ever give you (probably), never apologize for existing, okay? It does nothing for your self-esteem and it makes idiots think they can walk all over you.”

Vision was surprised by this sudden gift of advice, and he wasn’t sure he managed to hide it that well, “Thank you.” he said.

Tony quirked the corner of his mouth, an almost smile, and patted Vision’s shoulder, “Let me know how this whole empathy corner works out for you.” he said, finally stepping around him and walking down the hall. He stopped after a few feet and turned back, “And Vision?”

“Yes?” Vision called, wondering what the man would say next.

Tony seemed to choose his next words carefully, something rare for the man, “If JARVIS had to . . . go, I’m glad he got to be you.” he said, meeting Vision’s eye for a moment before turning and walking quickly down the hall.

Vision blinked and absorbed the information he’d just been presented with. Privately, he smiled at Tony’s retreated back and went to go prepare for the mission.

 

* * *

 

 

They boarded the jet in the early morning, just as the sun was rising. It was a long flight to Uzbekistan and they were all a little geared up. Tony and Sam were doing their best to keep everyone’s sprits up, but there was a noticeable tenseness in the jet. It was the first full team mission and they had no idea what they were flying into. Natasha had flown into worse before, but not with such a new team, and not one that was so incomplete. Since Bruce and Thor (and Tony and Clint) had left, it had been strange not seeing them every day. She had become used to them, and used to the tower (which was much better than the S.H.E.I.L.D. barracks or any apartment she could ever find on her own). As tiring as it had been some days, living in close proximity to so many big, sweaty men, it had been nice to be surrounded by people she could call friends.

When she and Clint had first started out, she had just come a situation that she now realized was terrible and abusive and really messed up. As screwed up as S.H.E.I.L.D. had been, it had always been her choice to serve with them, not them making her serve them. In the beginning, Clint had been her only confidant, the only person who believed that she could be better than what she had been. Eventually they had become friends, with a short detour into lovers before they decided that they were better friends (who sometimes still had sex because the sex was really great), but it had taken her a long time to learn how to trust.

With the team, it had come easier; not because she thinks she liked them better than Clint, what Clint had done for her she would be forever grateful for, but because she already had gone through the process of learning her own worth and that she was allowed to trust. So it hadn’t taken her a long time to warm up to the rest of the team. Steve was honest, Tony was funny, Thor was enthusiastic, Bruce was calm, and Clint was Clint, and she loved every one of them for being just that, and for being loyal, trustworthy friends.

She was slowly getting used to the new team, which was helped along by the fact that she knew some of them beforehand and had even worked with them on occasion. Sam she already liked and considered a friend, and Rhodey she knew could be trusted, though she was working into it; Vision was a riddle surrounded by mystery wrapped in an enigma, and it was difficult to figure him out. He seemed just as puzzled by everyone else, so in that sense, she figured he was pretty harmless. He almost reminded her of herself, when she had first come away from Red Room, unsure of the world around her, but curious about it (though he was less suspicious).

Her bond with Wanda had come as a surprise to her; she had never expected it to form so rapidly or so strongly. She suspected that it came from deep inside her, the part of her that quietly still despaired over the fact that she would never have any children of her own, a maternal protectiveness that saw a scared little girl, lost in the world and with no one to care about her and wanted to wrap her up in her arms and make it all better. A bit foolish, but she was allowed to be foolish once in a while, and Wanda seemed to need a good female role model.

It was her bond with the younger girl that had her stomach twisting in knots right now. They were only an hour from the site and she had no idea what they were heading into. More importantly, she had no idea what the witch wanted with Wanda. It made her more uncomfortable than she thought it would, more than she was willing to admit.

“Hey, you okay?” Clint asked, voice quiet enough not to be drowned out by the jet engines, “You look tense.”

“I want to find the witch as soon as possible.” Natasha said back, keeping her eyes on Wanda, who was speaking to Sam.

Clint followed her line of sight, “Maybe you should talk to Cap. Put in a secondary mission.” he said.

Natasha said nothing, but stood and crossed to where Steve was speaking to Tony and Rhodes, “Cap, need a word with you.” she said.

Steve seemed to realize what it was about the moment he looked at her face and discreetly followed her to a more secluded part of the jet, tucked behind the rack that held the emergency parachutes, “What do you need.”

“Second mission, find the witch and hold her.” was all she said, staring up at her team leader.

Steve met her gaze and nodded, “Once we secure the base, you and Hawkeye break off and search for the witch. Put and arrow or a bullet in her if you need to, but try to take her peacefully. Get her talking.”

Natasha nodded, “Thanks.” she said, glancing once more at the younger girl.

Steve smiled, “No worries.” he said, “I can see what it means to you. What she means to you.”

“She’s so young.” Natasha said, watching the girl giggle at something Sam said, “I was her age when I first started making a name for myself in the wrong business.”

“We’ll keep her safe Nat, don’t worry.” Steve said, laying a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll have three sets of eyes on her at all times and there’s no better duo on this team than you and Clint. You’ll find out what the witch is after.”

Natasha nodded and went back to her seat next to Clint. From the look on his face, she could tell that he had been reading their lips from afar and knew about their new mission. He gently patted her hand when no one was looking and she appreciated it; both his discretion and his comfort.

“Fifteen minutes until we arrive. I suggest we all prepare accordingly.” Vision said from the cockpit. He was one of the best pilots that she’d ever seen; he just had a way with everything mechanical.

Natasha straightened in her seat and began checking her gear. Next to her, Clint began an inventory of his arrows and bow; across from her, Rhodes stepped into the shiny silver suit that had stood sentry for the whole trip. Steve checked his gear as well while Tony had that look on his face that spoke of him mentally calculating a thousand different things all at once while Sam was strapping himself into his flight rig. Vision seemed to only have one state of being and Wanda simply watched the rest of them, unsure of what to do, especially since she was not flying into battle. She drew herself up and focussed on looking straight ahead. Natasha noticed her wince slightly and shy away from one side and silently wondered if the girl might have hurt herself at any point. She was forced to put it out of her mind as the jet started its abrupt decent.

“Everyone clear on their mission?” Steve called, now fully into his commanding persona of Captain America. With everyone’s affirmation, he continued, “Good, we move as soon as we touch down.”

Natasha stood and went to the end of the jet, waiting for it to open so she could start. Her body was as tight as a bowstring, but not tensed. She felt ready; for what, she wasn’t sure, but she would be damned if she let any of her own get hurt today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking about stuff in this chapter. Next chapter will be more action.


	10. Into the Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! We finally find out what's going on at the base!

The initial breach turned out to be a lackluster affair; they simply opened the front (read: only) door and walked inside. There were no alarms and no guards; only the smell of spices and the distant rattle of people somewhere in the compound.

“Is anyone else as freaked out as me right now?” Hawkeye muttered, sticking close behind Black Widow, “Any other place we’d be up to our ears in goons by now.”

“Small blessings Hawkeye, focus.” Captain America said, “As far as we know, they’re waiting for us. Keep an eye out.”

Hawkeye grumbled, “Why’d you have to say that? We weren’t gonna get ambushed but now we are because you said that.”

“You know what’s weird?” Tony chipped in, “I think I missed the radio chatter most of all.”

“That is weird. Focus guys.” War Machine said, “Radio silence. Emphasis on the _silence_.”

Cap chuckled, “Yeah, might want to give up on that. I stopped trying to get these yahoo’s to shut up a long time ago.”

“I figured that out within ten seconds of being on this team. Step up your game, War Machine.” Falcon crowed, the wind in his earpiece making his voice sound slightly breathless.

“It’s like wrangling children.” War Machine grumbled.

“Figured you’d be used to that after all your years of Tony wrangling.” Hawkeye chuckled.

“Well, you’re not wrong.” War Machine said after a pause.

“Hey!” Tony protested.

“You know what you are.” War Machine said, “A damn pain in my ass.”

“I can detect no movement towards us or away from us. If they are aware of our presence they are hiding it.” Vision said, standing tall behind Cap.

“They might be setting up for an ambush, be ready.” Cap said, “Move in, slowly. Keep an eye out.”

Tentatively they moved forward, deeper into the compound, the smell of burning spices getting stronger as they went. There were symbols drawn everywhere in a black substance that glistened faintly in the dim light. It was tacky to the touch and smelled sharp, but earthy and natural.

“These weren’t here when I came in last time. They must be gearing up for something.” Widow said.

“We’ll have Wanda take a look later.” Cap said, “Keep moving.”

As the team moved further into the earth, Tony tapped away at his scanners, trying to figure out what they were up against. He bypassed the security systems and frowned, “So, there are alarms, and they’re functioning at full capacity.”

Cap tensed, “So they know we’re here.” he growled, looking around for the predicted ambush.

“Well here’s the thing, they didn’t go off.” Tony elaborated, “Which is nearly a statistical impossibility because this is my system.”

“They got their hands of Stark Tech?” War Machine questioned, “Well that doesn’t bode well.”

“I’m more interested in why the hell it didn’t go off the minute you stepped in the door, which it was supposed to do.” Tony grumbled, flicking through the code almost too fast to read it. “This is the system I built for the military back in ’09. It’s a little outdated, but it’s still a good system. It should have put the whole compound on lockdown the minute your hand touched the sensor strip on the door handle. You wouldn’t have been able to get inside.”

“So they got their hands on some of your old, faulty tech, point for us.” Hawkeye said, fingering the string of his bow. He’d brought his smaller compound bow; easier to maneuver in tight quarters but still powerful enough to pierce through most body armor at close to medium range.

“But it’s _not_ faulty. Everything is in perfect working order. Hell, they just updated the software two days ago. They even got the expansion pack, and they paid for it too, that’s nice.”

“Maybe it’s a hardware issue?” Falcon chipped in, “Maybe the sensor is broken? Or the alarms themselves?”

“Well that’s what the expansion pack is for. The system keeps track of the electrical relays within the hardware and logs them. If a part of the system goes offline or starts malfunctioning, an alert is sent out. It’s showing that everything is in working order. It just didn’t go off when you entered the compound. That’s either supremely lucky or someone’s tampered with the whole thing in a way that I can’t detect.” Tony explained.

“Who wants to bet that it’s the first option?” Hawkeye chimed. When no one said anything, he let out a (manly) whine, “Yeah, me neither.”

“We’ll figure out the whys and hows later, right now we need to secure the base.” Cap said, “Widow, how far are we from the lab you saw?”

“Another fifty meters.” Widow replied.

“Approaching hostiles.” Vision said, looking off into the dimly lit hallway. They all tensed and readied themselves for an assault.

It only took a moment for the rest of the group to notice the incoming guards; their booted feet on the metal floors made a distinctive clanging that was hard to miss. They stayed still, waiting for them to get close enough to strike. Sure enough, the goons turned a corner and seemed genuinely surprised to see four Avengers staring them down.

“Wha—?” was all the furthest the goon on the right got before a tazer arrow electrocuted him into unconsciousness. The second goon managed to swing his rifle up before Cap’s shield slammed into his chest, knocking him backward with a grunt. He moaned and writhed in pain, sternum and collarbone probably broken from the full force of Captain America throwing his iconic shield into his torso.

“Two hostiles down. Tony, did they set off any alarms?” Cap asked as Widow secured the two men with zip ties to some grating.

“Nope. You’re golden.” Tony called through the comms, “I’m working on jamming internal communications from here, but you might have to do some on site tampering. I can walk you through it.”

“Thanks Tony.” Cap said, “Keep moving team. We’re getting close. If we can take the main lab, we can chokehold the rest of the compound into submission.”

The rest of the team nodded and once again moved further into the compound, the air getting stuffier and cooler as the moved deeper into the earth. The smell of spices and herbs was nearly overwhelming now, cloying and thick in their throats.

“We’re coming up on the tech lab, get ready.” Widow said, feet light on the metal floor. Hawkeye followed right behind her, with Cap and Vision bringing up the rear. The metal floors made it difficult to be stealthy, but only Cap seemed to have any trouble masking the sound of his footfalls.

They reached the door to the lab and quietly stole inside, automatically fanning out to take the strategic positions around the lab. Cap noticed Widow and Hawkeye expertly take out the guards they came across and grinned. He knew he would be noticed, giant flag that he was, so he kept close to the entrance, watching his team take out the guards and waiting for his moment.

When he saw the last guard fall at Vision’s hands, he stood tall and let his voice be carried by the acoustics of the room, “Everyone listen up!” he called, enjoying how several scientists jumped nearly a foot in the air, “This compound is now under the control of the Avengers. It would be better for everyone if you all surrendered right now.”

It seemed to take a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did, the personnel in the lab reacted predictably; most of the A.I.M. scientists immediately surrendered— they were scientists, not soldiers— and the Hydra goons started shooting. Cap had a moment of pride as his own team flew into action, before he had to leap into the fray himself.

Jumping down from the balcony, he landed on a guard and threw his shield, taking out several more guards. Catching his shield, he took off around the room, narrowly avoiding crashing into the delicate looking technology. An arrow whizzed past his cheek and pinned a particularly ambitious A.I.M. scientist wielding a blowtorch. She screamed in pain and tried in vain to free her hand from the table to which she was now stuck. Most of the other scientists had grabbed whatever machinery they had deemed important enough and crawled under their worktables. Black Widow all but flew around the room, dropping Hydra agents left and right. Vision literally flew around the room, drawing fire and taking out the guards equipped with higher artillery. An alarm went off, blaring loudly and reverberating through the room. It stopped as quickly as it started and the P.A. system crackled to life.

“This is your doom speaking.” came Tony’s voice, tinny over the speakers, “I have no idea what you idiots think you’re doing, but I suggest you stop before you get your asses handed to you on a silver platter.” he said, then the sound of AC/DC’s ‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’ began to play over the P.A.. Cap could hear Hawkeye laughing over the mixture of classic rock and battle noises.

A few minutes later, the Hydra guards were all down, either pinned, unconscious, or in too much pain to do more than writhe on the floor. Hawkeye took out any stragglers, but left the ones that were heading for the door.

“Falcon, War Machine, got some guys headed your way.” Cap said into the comm.

“Finally, I was getting bored as shit out here.” Falcon said, sounding more joyful than he should about armed thugs heading in his direction. Cap rolled his eyes and signalled for his team to fall in.

“Split up and take out any stragglers. Vision’s with me. Black Widow, Hawkeye, you know what to do.” he said with a knowing look at the two of them. Widow nodded and led Hawkeye out of the lab and into the compound.

“Captain, there are multiple life forms moving about the base, and several stationary life forms below us.” Vision said, eyes looking far away, scanning their surroundings.

“Capsicle, I’m getting something weird again.” Tony said into the comms.

“What’s up?” Cap asked.

“I just got a look into the power consumption for this place, and there’s another lab underneath the one you’re in that taking up over two thirds of all the power being used in the compound.” Tony said, “Either someone left the stove on, or something’s going on down there.”

“The Cradle?” Cap guessed.

“I’d wager, but even if it ran continuously at full power, I don’t think it would take up so much energy. I mean, this place is generating enough power to light up a decently sized town.” Tony said, “Be careful Steve.”

“I will. Thanks Tony.” Cap said. He strode over to the scientist who was still pinned to the table via arrow. She was sniffling and whimpering, and Cap almost felt bad for her.

“What’s below us?” he demanded.

The woman, a tiny thing with light brown skin and short dark hair, hiccupped and shook her head, refusing to talk. Cap sighed and stepped closer to her, looming over her with his considerable bulk, “What’s below us?” he asked again.

The woman cowered, looking up at him in fear. Steve didn’t really like doing this, it felt too much like he was being a bully, but he tried not to do it if he could help it. In this situation, it seemed called for, but he still took a step back.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore than you already are.” he said, voice softer now, “But you are going to jail for a very long time, and cooperating can mean the difference between a nice cozy cell in a medium security prison, or in a dark closet in a hole somewhere that no one will ever hear from you again. So help yourself out here, and tell me what I want to know.”

The woman sobbed and shook her head again, “I’m not telling you shit.” she hissed, “You Avengers do nothing but hold back the world’s progress. We’re doing work here that can change the world.”

“What sort of work? Portals?” Cap asked. That had been Black Widow’s guess when she’d come back from the base the first time.

The woman laughed, even as tears still streamed down her cheeks, “You’re a simpleton if you think that we’re doing something as paltry as trying to open portals. What we’ve accomplished will change the very nature of life on this planet.” she said.

Cap raised an eyebrow and pressed a finger to his comm, “Did everyone get that? Confirmed we’re not dealing with portals.”

“Well, that shits on everything we were prepared to deal with.” Tony grumbled.

“We had no idea what we were getting into. We weren’t prepared for anything.” Hawkeye said.

“Just focus and be careful. Vision and I will start escorting the captives out.” Cap said, “Have the local authorities been notified?”

“Yes, but they won’t get here very fast. Think you can contain everyone?” War Machine asked.

“There’s nowhere to go for miles out here. Trying to run would be worse than getting arrested.” Falcon said, “I think we can handle it.”

Cap smiled and directed Vision to start gathering everyone up and zip-tying their hands behind their backs. With the woman, he gently bandaged her hand and bound her hands in front of her. She was a crazy scientist who tried to attack him with a blowtorch, but Cap wasn’t going to treat her with anything but human decency. As he was, he noticed that she, and the rest of the personnel in the base, had sigils on the backs of their hands, drawn in the same black substance as the ones on the walls and machinery. Together, he and Vision rounded up all the scientists and conscious goons and started walking them out of the base.

“Cap? You know how we didn’t know what these people needed the Cradle for?” Hawkeye said over the comm, sounding a little shaken.

“You found it?” Cap asked, stomping down on his worry; this wasn't the time or place. His team knew what they were doing and, though they rarely acted like it, they were professionals.

There was a pause as Hawkeye took a steadying breath, “Yeah we found it alright, but you’re not going to like what they’ve been doing with it.”

 

* * *

 

 

As Hawkeye and Black Widow journeyed further into the base, the scent of spices gave way to a more familiar, but slightly more worrying smell; the smell of dead bodies. It wasn’t the same as the smell of rot and decomposition, it was more subtle than that, but Hawkeye knew that smell and he knew Black Widow knew that smell. He supressed a cough and tried not to let it get to him. There was just something unsettling about the whole situation that was setting his nerves on fire. He was a man who trusted his instincts; they had gotten him out of sticky situations more than once, and had gained him his best friend, so he tended to trust them. The sensation crawling up his spine was telling him to turn and run back outside, but he pressed on with the others. He had a mission, and he’d be damned if he was going to let his team down.

‘You okay?’ Black Widow signed at him, still moving forward. He only nodded and kept pace with her.

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and cautiously moved forward. It was cold this deep into the earth, and quieter. The walls around them were more oppressive, though Hawkeye knew it was only his brain playing tricks on him. Still, he could help the feeling that something was watching them, waiting for them. Whatever it was didn’t feel ‘hostile’, but it sure didn’t feel friendly either.

“Tony, where’s the lab you were talking about?” Widow said quietly into her comm.

“Third entrance to your left I think. Should be pretty obvious.” Tony said, also keeping his voice quiet.

They pressed forward and found the doors they were looking for. Not only were they huge, they were painted with the same black substance that was everywhere else, only much more detailed. There wasn't an inch of metal that wasn’t covered in some sort of rune or symbol or sigil. Its glistening sheen seemed to make it glow in the dim light. It was supremely creepy.

“Okay, who votes that we turn around and leave whatever’s in here alone?” Hawkeye said, staring up at the doors in mild terror.

Widow rolled her eyes, but didn’t step towards the door. Hawkeye looked at her and signed, ‘Do you feel it to?’ He groaned when she nodded; there was something oppressive about the door, as though something was warning them not to go in.

Screwing up his courage, he stepped forward and shoved the door open. Cold air rushed passed then, sending goose bumps up their arms and the hair on the backs of their necks standing up. The lab beyond the door was completely dark save for a few blinking lights scattered across the dark expanse. Hawkeye looked back at Widow, trying to gauge her state of mind. She gave him a nod and they both walked forward. The sickly sweet smell of the herbs was overwhelming now, as though trying to mask the smell of death around them. Instead it merged with the smell, turning Hawkeye’s stomach and making his head throb. There was the sound of a hundred or more people breathing, but there was no presence of any living thing in the lab. Soft beeping could be heard; thousands of different machine all functioning at once. Every inch of him wanted to turn around, grab his best friend, and book it back outside.

“Stark? Think you can switch the lights on?” Widow said into her comm. The sound echoed slightly; the lab was bigger than the one upstairs.

“Working on it.” Tony said, his voice coming with a slight static, owing to how deep they were in the earth.

The lights flicked on with a buzz, illuminating them and their surrounding in a white, fluorescent light that washed them out like the dead. Hawkeye sucked in a breath as he saw what he was surrounded by.

Rows upon rows of beds, each with a body on top of it, hooked up to life support machines steadily clicking away, beeping softly. Each body was softly breathing, eyes open and staring straight ahead listlessly. On the foreheads of every person were the same sigils that they had seen throughout the base and on the door of the lab, black and tacky looking.

Hawkeye sucked in a breath, not sure he was believing what he was seeing. He looked back at Widow and saw what was probably a mirror of the horrified expression on his own face; he walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she swayed slightly. She clung to him for a long moment before seeming to snap out of it. They shared a look and then began to investigate.

Every person on the beds had their head’s shaved, whether they were male or female. There seemed to be a healthy mix of races and genders, but most of them were pretty fit looking, or at the very least trim and healthy. Most looked to be in their twenties to forties, but there were few who were older, even less that were younger. Many had gruesome scars, suggesting violent pasts. Hawkeye slowly reached forward and took hold of a man’s wrist, gently lifting it and letting it drop. It flopped limply, the man it was attached to not reacting at all, just staring blankly forward. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow and crouched down, trying to determine what exactly was going on, when he noticed the amount of scar tissue across the man’s throat. It looked deep, cutting through both the trachea and the esophagus, from what he could see from the outside. An injury like that normally would have killed someone within minutes, seconds even, but the man on the bed was breathing fine, showing no signs other than the scar tissue that he’d ever been injured so severely. Hawkeye frowned and reached forward, pressing his fingertips to the scars; they were smooth to the touch and oddly familiar, though he couldn’t place why.

“Hawkeye! I found the Cradle.” Widow called from the furthest corner of the lab. He stood with a grunt and walked over, letting his eyes drift over the other occupants of the beds. All of them bore the same marks on their foreheads, painted on with precision. It was extremely unnerving and unsettling, and for the life of him Hawkeye couldn’t figure out what they were for, they didn’t seem to be doing anything at all.

Finally reaching Widow, he stood next to her and peered into the Cradle. It was on and working, an Asiatic male inside, eyes closed and motionless as the machine worked on him. Something clicked in Hawkeye’s brain and his heart seized in his chest.

The man in the Cradle was dead.

As the realization swept over him, Hawkeye looked frantically around at all of the occupied beds. All of these people were dead, or had been at some point, and A.I.M. was using science and magic to bring them back to life. No wonder A.I.M., Hydra, and the Ten Rings were all interested, not to mention probably countless others wanting immortal/zombie soldiers, or to bring their dearly departed back to them, no matter the cost.

“Clint.” Widow said, grabbing his arm in a tight grip, hard enough to bruise, “We need to call it in.” she said.

He shook himself, trying to get rid of the panic that flooded his awareness, “Right, yeah.” he said. He looked at his partner, his friend, saw that she was as terrified as he was. She’d seen as many horrors as he had in her life, probably more, and nothing compared to this. Hawkeye quickly wrapped her up in his arms, consoling her as much as himself. For a moment, they were Clint and Natasha, faced with unfathomable horrors. They breathed deeply and tried to collect themselves, taking comfort in one another; Clint looked around at all the beds, all of the abominations that were once people with lives, families, dreams and ambitions, and squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Natasha’s hair.

Eventually they stepped back, Hawkeye and Black Widow once again. Hawkeye patched through to Captain America on his comm, “Cap? You know how we didn’t know what these people needed the Cradle for?”

 

* * *

 

 

Tony was swearing loudly by the time he hacked into the security cameras for the lower lab (which were much more sophisticated than the ones for the rest of the base). When he’d heard what Hawkeye and Widow had found in the lower lab, he’d refocused his attention on hacking into the security. When he’d finally laid his eyes on the atrocity that was whatever these assclowns thought they were doing, his heart plummeted into his stomach, making him feel hot and sick all over.

“You are as white as milk, Stark. What has happened?” Wanda said from next to him, making him jump.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” Tony suggested after a moment’s debate. The dead coming back to life might be a sore spot for the young girl. She was an Avenger, but she was so young that even Tony wanted to protect her from some things, “You don’t have to see this.”

Wanda frowned at him and looked ready to argue, but went to the back of the jet to sit down. Tony sighed; he knew how frustrating it was to be treated like a child when you were clearly adult enough to be considered a coequal rather than a subordinate. He remembered being seventeen, barely younger than her, graduating from MIT _egregia cum laude_ and feeling too big for the kid gloves everyone treated him with. It had been frustrating and infuriating and he remembered the white hot anger that flared every time someone he knew he was smarter than would make some passing comment, usually for what they presumed was his own benefit.

Tony sighed again, “You know what, come on over here, you need to see the symbols so we know what we’re dealing with.” he called over his shoulder. When he didn’t hear anything to answer him, he turned around to find the jet empty.

Tony’s heart leapt from the pit of his belly to his throat, thudding hard, “Shit.” he swore. He turned back to the screens in front of him and patched through the comms, “Falcon War Machine, you’ve got incoming.”

“What happened?” Falcon asked, “I thought we got everyone inside the base.”

Tony shook his head, even though they couldn’t see him, “This is one of ours. Wanda slipped past me. I think she’s heading for the base.”

“What? How did she get past you? She use her powers on you?” War Machine asked, sounding worried.

Tony felt shame heat his face, “No I, um, wasn’t looking and she walked out the door.”

“Are you fucking serious Tony?” War Machine groused, “I should come down there and beat you with your stupid sunglasses.”

“Shut up, I was distracted by the shit going down inside the lab.” Tony fired back, “Do you see her?”

“I see her.” Falcon said, “I’ll try and get her to go back.” There was a rush of wind in the comm before the feed cut to ‘standby’. Tony could hear Falcon’s muted voice still, but he couldn’t make out any words.

A horrific screeching noise shot through the comms, causing Tony to leap back and nearly rip the comm out of his ear. A myriad of complaints came through from the entire team.

“What the _hell_ was _that_?”

“Tony what did you do?”

“Who did that?”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Fucking _shit_ that hurt.”

“Everyone sound off!” Cap ordered sternly, his worry only slightly evident in his voice, “Captain America. Status unchanged.”

 “War Machine. Status unchanged.”

“Vision. Status unchanged.”

“Black Widow. I’m fine.”

“Hawkeye. Ditto.”

“Not Iron Man, trying to figure out what the fuck that just was.” Tony groused, tapping away at his screens. There was a moment of silence before they all realized they were missing someone.

“Falcon? Falcon, do you read? Sam!” Cap shouted, voice rising in pitch as he realized that he wasn't getting an answer, “Tony, where is he?”

“Hang on, his comm went offline, I have to reboot it.” Tony said through clenched teeth. He wasn’t ready to lose another teammate, not again. A three second reboot process felt like an eternity filled with static and the thudding of his heart.

“-cking hell shit gonna put that brat in a damn headlock.” came Sam’s voice, rough and disgruntled.

“Falcon!” they all said at once, “What happened?” Cap demanded, relief palpable in his voice.

“The little Witch put the whammy on me. I think I blacked out.” Falcon said, “She was heading for the compound.”

“We’re right at the entrance, we haven’t seen her.” Cap said, “She’s been working on a stealth spell, so she might have slipped past us without us noticing in the confusion. We’ll head in and look for her.”

“Captain, second mission?” Black Widow asked, sounding serious.

“Confirmed. Black Widow, Hawkeye, do what you need to.” Cap said.

Tony felt his damaged heart clench in his chest, “We messed up Steve.” he said.

Cap grunted with displeasure, “I know.” he said, “We’ll keep her safe.” he promised, maybe more to himself than to Tony. He sure hoped he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda wat r u doing!?


	11. The Great Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, but we finally get to what everyone has been waiting for.

Wanda wasn’t sure what had compelled her to leave the jet and head for the compound. She hadn’t planned on it, though she had been a little put out at the idea that she would be left behind while the others risked their lives. Even when Stark had brushed her off in the jet, she hadn’t really planned to leave the jet; she had only gone to the ramp to look out at the base.

Something was calling to her. Calling her forward into its depths, and she was too curious to say no.

She felt bad for what she’d done to Sam, but he would recover quickly; she’d only put him to sleep a little, no nightmare visions. She was more careful slipping past the others, making herself invisible to their eyes (‘these are not the droids you’re looking for’, she thought with a smile). It was harder to get by Vision, but if he noticed her, he gave no indication.

Wanda slipped into the compound and made her way down. The symbols drawn on the walls and at the entrances hummed with power, but she paid them little attention other than to note that they were drawn with a mixture of sap, tar, honey, and a bit of ink (the ink she suspected was only to make the colour stand out in the darkness). They shimmered a little as she passed, but she couldn’t tell if it was only the light playing tricks with her eyes, or whatever magic infused into them was reacting to her. Wanda put it out of her mind and followed them down, into the apex of the power.

As she travelled deeper into the compound following the symbols to the crux of the energy, she felt the wound at her side react strangely. It wasn't hurting her more than usual, but she felt it tugging and throbbing as she moved. By the time she reached the lab, she could nearly see it at the edge of her vision, like a void at her side, cold and strange.

As she came to the doors, she realized that the power was leading her even further, passed the lab and into a different part of the base. It occurred to her that she should be worried, that she was in danger and should turn around and go back, but something in her made her ignore that impulse; curiosity, maybe, or maybe it was the same impulse that had landed her in the hands of Hydra in the first place. Whatever it was, she pressed on until she came upon the core of the magic flowing around her.

The door was unassuming, no different from the maintenance rooms she’d passed on the upper levels (it was possible even a repurposed maintenance room); however, she could feel the power pouring out from behind it, the smell of burning herbs swirling around her like smoke. There was literal smoke curling out from the seams of the door, twisting through the gaps and making the dim light even hazier. Wanda took a deep breath and stepped forward, hand stretched to take hold of the handle and reveal what was calling her to action.

“Gotcha!” Hawkeye shouted as he snatched her wrist just before she reached the door, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped at her, clearly livid.

Wanda resisted the urge to shrink back from his rage, “There’s something in there.” she said, tugging her wrist back a little. He gripped her tight enough to be uncomfortable and she decided that she wouldn’t be able to get her hand back without hurting herself or him.

“I know English is your second language, but is there some part of ‘consulting only’ that you didn’t understand?” Hawkeye growled, “Because I thought we were very clear on the ‘stay in the fucking jet’ part of that.”

Wanda felt something curl up into a little ball inside of her, like she was a child being scolded (which, she thought acerbically, she essentially was), “There’s something in there.” she repeated, keeping her eyes on his face, refusing to look away in shame, “Something’s calling to me.”

Natasha appeared behind Hawkeye and she felt the little ball in her stomach grow hot, “And you thought it was a good idea to follow it right into the belly of the proverbial beast?” Hawkeye hissed; he tugged her wrist, dragging her back towards the stairs, “Come on, you’re going back to the jet and getting strapped down.”

Wanda resisted, digging her heels in, but Barton was bigger than her by nearly double and easily dragged across the metal floors. She looked at Natasha for backup, but the older woman just gave her a hard stare that made her feel like a misbehaving child. She nearly stopped resisting when her entire left side, the side where the wound haunted her, went ice cold with pain. She gasped and jerked, twisting her body as if to get away from it.

“Clint!” Natasha said sharply, stepping forward. Hawkeye let go the moment that Natasha wrapped her hands around Wanda’s shoulders. She hissed when her hand came into contact with her left shoulder and snatched it back.

“It’s like ice.” she said, sounding bewildered. Wanda whimpered and clutched at her side.

“It hurts.” she gasped, feeling tears sting her eyes and fall down her cheeks. Natasha stepped closer and gripped her right arm sharply to get her attention.

“Focus.” she said, “Look at me.” she ordered, and Wanda forced herself to look up at the older woman, “We’re getting you out of here.”

Wanda shook her head; she _had_ to get to that door, “No!” she cried, yanking back when Natasha tried to drag her to the stairs again. She shoved herself backwards, out of Natasha’s grip and pushed out with her powers. Natasha grunted as she was punched in the stomach by an invisible force, pushing her into Barton, sending them both crashing into the wall. Wanda didn’t give herself a moment to feel guilty before she went for the door again. Natasha and Barton shouted something she didn’t catch as she threw open the door, sending a plume of smoky haze billowing out into the hallway.

At first Wanda couldn’t see a thing, the smoke and the pain clouding her vision; as it cleared, she saw a bed with a figure on it, propped up on pillows. It only took her an instant to recognize who the figure was, though she scarcely believed what she was seeing.

“Pietro!” she cried.

 

* * *

 

 

Clint had an arrow nocked the moment the door was open, ready for anything; anything _except_ for Wanda’s dead brother sitting up in a bed surrounded by something that looked like it would be more at home in a witch’s lair than an underground A.I.M./Hydra/Ten Rings base; pots of burning herbs were placed strategically and symbols were drawn everywhere.

His seething rage on the back burner for the moment, he stepped forward and grabbed hold of the wrist of the body on the bed. It was unmistakably Pietro Maximoff, he would remember that face until the day he died, and though his head was shaved like the other thousands of bodies in the lab, he had no markings on him. Clint felt his pulse, steady and completely calm under his fingers, but there was no reaction from the boy in question. He was just like the others, suspended between life and death somehow.

Wanda was crying and clinging to her brother, calling out to him and trying to get a response from him. Clint felt his heart shatter at her desperate cries; gently, he put his hand on her shoulder.

“He’s gone Wanda. He’s not—he’s not _there_.” he said softly. The only reaction he got from her was her shaking her head, refusing to hear him, “Wanda, he’s dead, there’s no one in there. He’s not your brother anymore.”

He reached out with his other hand, going for her other shoulder, the right one, but snatched his hand away when something cold burned him. He stepped back in shock and suddenly noticed something he hadn’t before; a void, a space where the smoke wasn’t, like there was something standing there. He doubt he would have seen it if it weren’t for his incredible eyes, but now that he did see it, it was impossible not to notice; what was even more impossible not to notice was how familiar the shape was, how _person-shaped_ it was. He glanced down at body on the bed and felt something ice cold race up his spine and then splash back down into his belly.

Wanda turned her head to the side and the lights went out.

 

* * *

 

 

Wanda barely heard what Barton was telling her over the sound of her own cries, but the words sunk in anyway; she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ believe him. Her brother was there, right in front of her, warm under hands and breathing and she could feel his heart under her palms when she rubbed his chest (like she did when he ate too fast and got heart burn or the hiccups like a doof because he couldn’t just be patient), but Barton’s words sunk in, _‘he’s not there, there’s no one in there. He’s not your brother anymore’_ and damn it all if he wasn’t _right_. She could feel nothing of her brother, for all he was right in front of her; his mind was empty, devoid of anything that was even remotely familiar, anything that made him _Pietro_. No memories, no personality, no thoughts, not even a reaction to her, no trace of the connection they once shared. For all that he was breathing, the body in front of her was a corpse.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot tears on her face burn as they made their way down her cheeks. Not again; she couldn’t lose her brother again, not after this. She couldn’t let go of him again, she wouldn’t put him back in the ground. She felt the darkness rush back to her tenfold, swallowing her up and pulling her down with grief and sorrow and loneliness and terror and helplessness. For a moment she lost herself, unable to feel anything, wanting to just give up and join her brother in oblivion because it would be so much easier than this, this life that she couldn’t live because she didn’t have anyone at her side. She almost let the darkness take her, because what could she do?

But she could do something.

She was not helpless.

She was an _Avenger_.

Feeling her power surge up within her, her breathing evening out, her heart rate slowing down, time coming to a standstill, Wanda turned her head toward the wound.

When Wanda was a little girl, she remembered looking down into an open manhole, into the seemingly endless darkness that, in her childish mind, looked like it went on forever. It was the first thing she recalled, looking into the wound. It was a deep, seemingly bottomless chasm that swallowed any available light. She hardly noticed that the lights around her had gone out, their artificial glow replaced by the dim glimmer of the burning herbs. The red light of her powers illuminated the room and everything in it as it spilled out from her in rivulets. All but the wound was cast in bright red.

Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of Natasha and Barton, but she paid them no mind. Remembering what she’d done in the forest only days ago, she reached out into the wound and yanked forward what she now knew was her brother, standing with her even though his soul existed on a separate plane of existence.

She was't sure how long she stayed there, pulling and shoving at the wound, trying to bring her brother forward, but she was aware the instant there was someone else in the room, next to her, helping her.

“Breathe my dear, you need to breathe. You need to concentrate.” the presence said, resting her hands on her shoulders, “Relax and let the power do what it was meant to. Don’t force it, let it flow.”

Wanda nearly didn’t absorb what was being said, but the hands on her shoulders, thin but strong, were insistent and she forced herself to relax, letting her power flow more naturally. The difference was instantaneous; the lightly smoking bowls of herbs erupted into multicoloured flames and the symbols that had been glimmering wetly in the dim light suddenly burst to life, shining red light as Wanda’s power sank into them. Wanda felt their power infuse into her, their intent direct her to where she wanted to go. The wound crackled and shivered; Wanda reached out with her hands, reaching into the void where her brother should be and yanked, pulling apart the reality of the situation and trying to replace it with the reality she wanted.

The cold of the wound burned her, searing and almost too much, but she pressed on, reaching further and further, nearly letting it engulf her, like reaching into eternity, before something reached back. She could only just see it, running towards her, arms outstretched, desperate to get to her. She felt one hand remove itself from her shoulder, and the other one grip tighter, but she kept reaching, seemingly forever, the very fabric of the universe crackling angrily around her. Wanda reached and reached until it felt like her arms would detach from her body when finally she grasped something.

It dug into her painfully, gripping too tightly, like it was terrified to let go; Wanda gripped it back just as tightly and pulled, crying out with the effort. She pulled and pulled and pulled and felt something burn her, white hot and searing, then dying as quickly as it had come, like a thousand candles being blown out at once. Wanda yanked as hard as she could and ripped it through the wound, through the tear in the universe, and into reality.

For a moment all she knew was white; her vision blanked out and she heard nothing, felt nothing, and knew nothing. She felt herself sinking into that nothing, but a sharp pain in her shoulder made her gasp, snapping her back into her body. She heaved, drawing air into her lungs like she’d been drowning. Her stomach twisted and she had just enough time to hunch over before she vomited up what little food had been in her system. She continued to dry heave even after everything in her system was in a pool on the floor, thin strings of bile the only things she managed to get out.

The last things she remembered before she blacked out was the sensation of warm arms wrapping around her and a single word, a single voice calling out for her in a sea of roiling confusion.

“Sister!”

 

* * *

 

Natasha wasn’t sure how to process what had just transpired. One moment she was trying to pull Wanda away from the living corpse of her brother, and the next she was cowering in the corner with Clint, watching what could only be described as Wanda _tearing open a hole in reality_ and _dragging something through the tear_. At some point, the same elderly woman that had accosted her on her first mission in the base appeared, placing her hands on Wanda’s shoulders and speaking softly to her.

Immediately after that, the room erupted into light, the smell of burning everything intensifying and stinging her nostrils. She worried for a second that they would be consumed by the fire, the heat oppressive around them, but then realizing that most of the heat and light was coming from _Wanda_. It got too bright for her to see after that, and she had to shut her eyes, less she be blinded. Wanda let out a truly terrifying scream and suddenly it was over; like nothing had happened in the first place. Natasha opened her eyes to see Wanda slumped to the floor, head tilted back and staring blankly at the ceiling. She was finally spurred into action when the old woman stabbed her in the shoulder with a short blade (that looked like it had been dipped in a syrup of some kind).

“Hey!” Natasha shouted at the woman, launching herself up on shaky legs. She shoved the woman away from the younger girl and bent to hold her hair back as she retched up a worrying amount of vomit.

Wanda was just spewing up the last of whatever solids were in her system and beginning to dry heave when the body on the bed jerked and began to cough violently. Natasha looked on, bewildered, as Pietro seemed to come back to life in front of her eyes. Clint jumped forward and patted his back; she caught his eye and she could see that he was just as confused as she was.

Wanda slumped forward just as Pietro seemed to fully become aware of his surroundings. Natasha caught the younger girl just before she hit the floor, wrapping her arms around her as her brother jumped up and slid to the floor heavily, his legs apparently jelly under him.

“Sister!” he called in Sokovian, reaching for her with shaking fingers, “What happened? What happened to her?”

Natasha glanced at Clint. Movement out of the corner of her eye reminded that the old woman, the witch, was still in the room and still a potential threat. Clint noticed a split second later and had an arrow nocked and trained on the old woman, ready to fly the moment she made a wrong move.

Pietro looked around, seeming to just notice where he was, still clinging to his sister. He looked into Natasha’s eyes, confusion written all over his face.

“What happened?”

Natasha looked around the room and then back at Pietro, “I have no idea.” she answered.

 

* * *

 

Steve had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, much of which most people wouldn’t believe if you waved it in front of their noses. He thought he’d dealt with it fairly well, as well as anyone who’d more or less time traveled decades into the future after fighting a man with a skull for a face and being transformed into the physical peak of human perfection _could_. His threshold for the bizarre was understandably higher than most people.

That being said, nothing could have prepared him for what had just transpired. One moment he was overseeing the arrest of about five hundred scientists and Hydra/Ten Rings goons; the next, the odd symbols on their hands glowed bright red. None of them had even a moment to scream before they all dropped dead. Steve wasn’t even sure what happened; in an instant, every person who had had one of those symbols drawn on the backs of their hands was dead. It reminded him eerily of the way the Chitauri had all dropped when Tony had nuked their mother ship. Only one of the scientists remained, the woman who had her hand shot through by Hawkeye.

“What just happened?” he demanded, not so much directing it at her, but to the universe at large.

“I . . . I don’t—she said they would protect us.” the woman all but whimpered, looking at her fallen comrades. It seemed like she hadn’t known anything about whatever this was.

“Tony, what happened?” Steve called into his comm, “Everyone out here just dropped like mayflies.”

“I have no idea.” Tony answered, “There was some kind of power surge that knocked out my systems. I think it had something to do with Scarlet Witch.”

“Wanda did this?” Steve looked around at the bodies, trying not to remember the fields of bodies he had to walk over during the war, “Not a chance, she wouldn’t do something like this.”

“I’m not saying it was her, I’m saying that it looked an awful lot like her powers.” Tony explained, “Maybe someone got to her inside the base and used her to take out their captors?”

“The witch.” Steve growled, “I’m going into the base. Falcon, cover me.”

Steve gripped his shield tightly as he headed for the base, hearing Sam swoop in behind him and land on the sand next to him. They stepped over a few bodies making a B-line for the door, but Steve tried not to think about it. If someone was using Wanda to hurt people, he needed to stop it as soon as possible.

He barely made it to the entrance when Natasha and Clint came out, bringing with them Wanda (unconscious and cradled in Natasha’s arms), an old woman who was presumably the witch (walking out front with an arrow trained at her back courtesy of Clint), and, astoundingly, Pietro (leaning heavily on Clint and constantly looking over his shoulder at his sister).

Steve rushed forward to help Pietro, not even sure that he was real until he felt him under his hands. He was warm and very much alive, though his breathing was slightly laboured. He hoisted the young man’s arm over his shoulder, letting him rest his body weight against him.

“What happened?” Steve asked, looking to Natasha. She shook her head and continued carrying Wanda towards the jet.

“Someone cuff her.” Clint growled, nudging the old woman with the point of his arrow. Sam blinked away his shock and stepped forward with a ziptie.

“Captain.” Pietro rasped, voice scratchy with dehydration, “What is going on? No one will tell me. What happened? Was it Ultron?”

Steve looked out over the sand, over the bodies that lay where they had fallen. He very rarely had nothing to say to anyone, but for once he was at a loss of words.  He hoisted Pietro up a little higher on his side and followed Natasha towards the jet.

“You bitch!” the one remaining scientist shouted, kicking up sand at the old woman, “You said—! You said these marks would protect us!” she sobbed.

The woman, for her part, did not look intimidated or impressed, “I said they were for protection. I didn’t say they would protect _you_.”

The scientist whimpered and collapsed, muttering to herself and crying. Steve felt himself feeling sorry for her, despite her nefarious connections and dubious intentions. He signaled to Vision and continued to the jet.

Tony reacted to Pietro’s sudden return from the Great Beyond with all of the grace you would expect him to; none at all.

“What the _fuck_! _What the fuck_! Motherfucking _shit_! How the _fuck_?” Tony shouted, clutching his hair, “What did you _do_?”

Steve groaned, “I don’t _know_.” he said, helping Pietro sit down close to the medical table where Natasha had laid Wanda down, “I have no idea what happened.”

Tony moaned and put his face into his hands, “We’ve got Uzbek authorities coming in any minute and we somehow have to explain how five hundred detainees became five hundred bodies in less than a second.” he said, “This is why I quit. I still quit. Fuck this.”

“Get in line, Stark.” Clint called from where he and Sam were loading their two prisoners onto the jet, “I quit first.”

The elderly woman went without a fuss, sitting primly and allowing herself to be strapped in; the young scientist was not as compliant, shying away from Sam’s touch and fiddling with the locked straps. She didn’t look like she was about to go anywhere, but she sure didn’t look happy about it either. Steve looked between the two women, trying to decide who to speak to first. The scientist seemed to have no idea about the sudden deaths of her comrades, and he guessed that the witch knew more than she let on.

Steve turned to helped strap Pietro in the rest of the way (his hands were shaking and he looked like he was about to pass out), then walked toward the old woman. He signaled to Natasha to check on Pietro when she was done with Wanda and sat down in front of the witch.

She met his gaze unflinchingly, face neutral, like she anticipated everything he was about to say. At first glance she seemed like a normal woman, someone you might see walking down the streets; the strangest thing about her was that she seemed to exist here, in this extraordinary place _while_ being so ordinary. She was out of place, like a puzzle piece that inexplicably fit where it wasn't supposed to go.

Steve shook off his thoughts, “What happened.” he demanded, though not forcefully.

“The girl ripped a hole in the fabric of reality in order to bring her dead brother’s soul back from beyond the veil.” she answered him easily.

Steve blinked, unsure how to respond to that. He glanced at Natasha; she nodded subtly, confirming the woman’s story. Steve looked back at her, “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Agatha Harkness.” she said, “And this is Ebony.” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when a large black cat came out of seemingly nowhere and jumped onto the woman’s—Agatha’s lap.

“Er, right.” Steve muttered. He was tempted to take the animal away, but there really wasn't anywhere to put it, and they couldn’t leave it behind in the desert. It would surely die if they left it behind, magic or not, “Why exactly are you here, Ma’am? No offence, but you seem out of place.”

“I was taken by Rita here and her friends. They wanted my expertise on the magic aspects of their little experiment.” Agatha answered with a slightly scathing sidelong glance at the still simpering scientist in the other chair, “They didn’t have the power to do what they were trying to accomplish, but I knew that the girl did.” she said, clearly speaking about Wanda.

“How did you know about her?” Steve asked. Wanda hadn’t been on any missions yet, and her existence wasn't well known by anyone outside of the Avengers circles.

Agatha chuckled, “When a girl with that sort of power starts dropping cities out of the sky, people take notice.” she said, “I divined as much as I could, and I knew that she would come to this place. When I discovered that they had taken her brother, I knew she would try and bring him back. So I made it so that, when she tried, the damage would be contained.”

“Contained? What do you mean?” Steve asked. By now the others had come back to the jet and where trying to look like they weren’t listening in.

“The symbols.” she explained, “On the poor souls in the basement and the bastards who took me. I kept the damage of ripping open a door to another dimension to them.”

Steve kept his temper in check, “You killed all of those people?’ he growled.

“Technically she did.” Agatha said flippantly, waving her hand at the girl on the med table, “I just kept the victims to those who either deserved it or were better off.”

“That’s not something that you can decide on your own. These people deserved a fair trial.” Steve said. Hydra or not, they still deserved their rights as human beings.

Agatha raised a thin brow at him, “If I hadn’t done what I had done, this entire area would be a desolate crater, and she would be to blame.” she said, “Besides, those poor monstrosities in the lab are better off now.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. For all that he’d dealt with in his life, he had no idea how to approach this. Tony called out that the Uzbek authorities were arriving and stood to go join Rhodes in dealing with them. As he was leaving the jet, he cast one last glance at Wanda, laid out on the med table, and wondered just how powerful she really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Wanda, you poor girl.


	12. Power Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the internet is down at my home, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll get these next couple of chapters written. On one hand, no internet means less distractions. On the other hand, it also means that I'll be getting out of the house more and not able to upload chapters even if they are done. So basically just sit tight.

The Uzbek authorities were unsurprisingly upset about the situation. Steve and Rhodes did their best to explain, but it still took them three hours to convince them to let them go (with the two prisoners). They would still need to do a full report and talk to the President of Uzbekistan about continuing the investigation without stepping on any international toes. From what Natasha could determine, the military personnel they had dealt with were just glad they hadn’t blown anything up or dropped a city out of the sky.

Natasha was still reeling from what she had witnessed. Strange things happened to them all the time, but this was something else entirely. They all gave Agatha a wide berth, instead focussing on other things; Natasha was concentrating on treating Wanda and Pietro.

“Grip my hand as hard as you can.” she ordered gently, taking Pietro’s hand in her own, “You won’t hurt me.”

Pietro took a moment to focus, but his grip was tight so there was no nerve damage. It seemed to her that he was exhausted, malnourished, dehydrated, and very confused more than anything else. She grabbed him a bottle of water and he gulped it down, nearly choking on it when he swallowed too fast.

“Easy, take it slow.” she said, taking the bottle away and patting his back as he coughed. She handed it back when he calmed down enough, “What do you remember?”

Pietro finished off the bottle of water and shrugged, “We were in Sokovia. The city was flying. Ultron was in that ship and . . . oh, Hawkeye!” he sat up straighter, looking around the jet, “He had that child. He was going to get shot.”

Clint stepped out of the corner, “Right here kid.” he said, grinning thinly, “Safe and sound. The kid is fine too.”

Pietro visibly relaxed, slumping back into his seat, “Good.” he said. He sat up again to look at his sister, “What happened to her?” he asked, looking worried.

“Pietro, what do you remember after that?” Natasha asked, skirting around the question of Wanda for now.

Pietro shrugged again, “Nothing much. There was sort of the sensation of . . . floating? Or sinking maybe? Then I woke up in that room.”

Natasha tried to wrap her head around it all, “You don’t remember anything else?”

Pietro thought hard for a moment, “Trees.” he said, “I remember trees. I think they were trees. There was a lot of them, and they were very tall. It’s all very foggy.”

Natasha wasn't sure what to make of that, but she went ahead with the explanation of what had happened. Pietro seemed genuinely surprised to learn that he had died, but he was more upset by how long he had been dead, therefore leaving his sister alone in the world.

“She must have been so lonely.” he said, looking around Natasha to where Wanda was still laid out, “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s unconscious and she’s got a stab wound in her shoulder, but she should recover.” Natasha said. At the mention of the stab wound, she glanced over to Agatha Harkness, still strapped down to one of the seats. Sam was guarding her and Rita, the scientist.

Pietro didn’t look that comforted, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes on his sister. The rest of the flight home was quiet, with everyone trying to process what just happened. They decided not to land at the Avengers main compound and took a detour to a more secure location that used to be owned by S.H.E.I.L.D. It wasn’t ideal, but none of them wanted their prisoners to know where they lived. Unlike Avengers Tower, they were trying to keep a low profile.

Once they had arrived, Natasha and Clint took care of Pietro and Wanda, Clint wheeling Wanda on a gurney and Natasha supporting the still jelly-legged Pietro. He seemed to be recovering fast though, and his shakes were starting to dissipate.

“May I please have something to eat?” Pietro asked, “I feel very hungry.”

“We’ll get you something when we have you and your sister settled in the medical lab.” Natasha promised.

“Together?” Pietro questioned, glancing at his sister again.

Natasha nodded, “Together.”

Assuaged, Pietro smiled a little and walked with her, trying not to lean on her too heavily. She was unsure if he even should be walking, but they only had one gurney and it was easier to carry someone who could partially walk rather than someone who couldn’t walk at all.

The small outpost they were at was disguised as a small roadside gas station, but it had an underground compound, complete with a medical bay, a cell block, and a couple lounge rooms. It was fully stocked and ready, with a team of doctors and nurses on call, and was maintained by a layered cake of shell companies that eventually lead back to a private account that was set up on an automatic system to pay for several of these safe houses across the globe. The account used to be owned by S.H.E.I.L.D., but it had been transferred to a mysterious owner just after S.H.E.I.L.D. had that big Hydra induced coma. Only Clint and Natasha (and the doctors who were trustworthy) knew that this place was still operational.

The medical team had been called ahead and were waiting for them, taking Pietro and Wanda from Clint and Natasha and hurriedly rushing them to the medical bay. Natasha motioned for Clint to follow them and trotted off to find Steve and the others. She was their best interrogator and she trusted Clint to watch over the other two.

It didn’t take her long to find the others; Rhodes, Vision, and Tony were all sitting in the hall of the cell block, outside of the interrogation room, all looking a little shaken (she was getting better at reading Vision, and she could see that he was rather perturbed by what had happened). She walked to the interrogation room and peered into the window. Steve and Sam were talking to Agatha; Rita she guessed was getting her hand stitched in the medical bay. Agatha seemed to be talking a lot, but neither Steve nor Sam seemed very happy about it. Sam spied her from the other side of the door and walked over, slipping out of the room and letting her enter.

“—old you everything.” Agatha was saying, “What more is there to say?”

Steve rubbed his temples, “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Try it again?”

Agatha sighed, but acquiesced, “I divined from the Cosmic Powers that a new power was being awakened, and would need guidance as her powers emerged. Shortly afterward I was kidnapped by the people you just apprehended.”

“We didn’t apprehend them. That would require that they be alive.” Steve said, sounding extremely tired.

“Yes well, I’m getting to that.” Agatha said, “As I was saying—“

“Hold on a moment, do you expect us to believe that you divined a vision from cosmic powers?” Natasha interrupted.

Agatha turned her gaze to her, “Is it so hard to believe? One of your teammates is a Norse God.”

Natasha deliberated a moment, “Proceed.” she instructed.

Agatha had the grace not to look smug, “As I was saying, I was taken by those men. Hydra, I believe. They were trying to bring back the dead with the help of stolen technology, but they could only bring back the body, not the soul. Which was where I came in, apparently. They didn’t seem to realize that my power lay in communication and pathways, not doors and portals to the other side.”

“Are there people like that?” Steve asked, “People who can open portals with . . . magic?”

“There are many people who can exploit weak points in the fabric of reality.” Agatha explained, “Though I have never met a girl who could simply tear open a hole in reality and drag something as slippery as a soul through it with sheer willpower alone.”

“And that’s what Wanda did? Rip open reality?” Natasha asked. It had certainly looked like she had done that, but it couldn’t possibly be true.

Agatha nodded, “She did indeed. She has a great power within her, and I fear that she has no idea how it works or how to use it responsibly. If I had not helped her, she would have kept tearing and swallowed up a sizable chunk of the earth.”

Natasha tilted her head, stuck on a snag in the story, “How did you know that she was coming? When we met the first time, you told me to bring her. You knew what she was going to try and do, and you still wanted her there. Why?”

“I knew it was inevitable. Some points in time are fixed, like axes or pivots. If you stop them or destroy them, the whole network unravels.” Agatha said, “If I had tried to stop her, not only would I not have succeeded, but I would be putting the entire universe at risk.”

“So you set it up so she would bring her brother back.” Steve concluded.

“Not exactly.” Agatha said, “Hydra was already planning on bringing him back, as a soldier for their cause.” she said as Steve clenched his fists; he hated the idea of anyone being used against their will, and Hydra doing it made it all the more sickening, “I told a few lies to get him away from the others, but it was their doing, bringing his body back from the dead.”

It certainly sounded like something Hydra would do. Wanda and Pietro had been their star subjects, the only two to survive any of Strucker’s experiments, and Natasha would bet that they would pay big money to get them back.

“All that aside, why kill them all?” Steve asked, “Revenge? Justice?”

“Necessity.” Agatha corrected, “Wanda was going to rip apart the barrier between this world and the next, which would have consumed her and everything around her for miles. I took precautions to ensure the least amount of damage to our world.” she leaned forward slightly, sitting straighter in her chair, “The universe does not take kindly to those who tamper with the natural order. Bringing souls back from the dead is an affront to the Eternal Cycle, and such affront demands recompense. I marked the bodies of the others who had been brought back and those who had aided in making such an abomination possible. I rectified the injustice done to the soulless bodies brought back from peace and enacted retribution on those who had meddled in powers they had no understanding of. In doing so I enabled the girl to bring back her brother without destroying herself and the people she cared about.”

Steve leaned back in thought, “So marking the people who had been brought back to life was a mercy killing?” he asked. Agatha nodded and he continued, “So why mark the others? Why not just use the people who weren’t really alive anyway?”

“Because they had no souls, Captain.” Agatha said, “They were many in body, but nothing in mind. It wouldn’t have been enough to placate the Cosmic Powers and set to rights the natural order. Physicality can only do so much. In order to make sure that it worked without anyone unnecessarily getting hurt, I had to focus in on the people who deserved it most.”

Steve frowned and Agatha sighed, “You act as though I took revel in it, Captain. I can assure you, I did not. I did not wish any of them ill, despite the fact that they kidnapped me, and only assured their destruction because I had no other option. Would you rather that I had not, and let Wanda destroy herself and everything around her in her attempts?”

“I would rather not have let this happen at all.” Steve muttered. He stood abruptly, “I think we’re done for now.” he said.

Agatha nodded and stood, letting herself be cuffed and led back to her cell by Steve. They passed the others in the hall, and all but Vision avoided looking like they were staring. Agatha took little notice of them and went straight to her cell without any complaints. Steve uncuffed her and locked the door behind her. He groaned and buried his face in his hands and leaned back against the wall.

“So?” Tony asked, jittery and nervous; he hated to wait for any news, “What did she say?”

Natasha gave them the basic rundown of what they had learned. Rhodes and Tony both looked equal parts disbelieving and affronted, Sam looked tired, and Vision simply looked curious. All Natasha wanted to do was crawl into a bed and never come out of it. After today, she probably deserved it.

“I’m going back to the infirmary to check on the others.” she said, “Someone needs to tell Clint.”

Without waiting for any protests (not that there would have been any), she turned on her heel and headed back the way she came, back to the medical lab. The doctors had cleared out, leaving only Clint to watch over the two youngsters. Pietro was sitting up in bed, munching his way through a plate of food (his third, by the look of the other two plates stacked on the bedside table), while Wanda was still unconscious, but looking a little less pale.

Clint looked up as she walked in, “Any news?” he asked.

‘Plenty.’ she signed at him. She managed to give him the basic rundown of what Agatha had told her through sign language, much to the confusion of Pietro.

“What are you doing?” he asked, setting his finished plate aside, “Are you talking?”

“Yes, it’s called sign language.” Clint explained, “We’ll tell you later. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Pietro said, lying back on his mountain of pillows, “Not so hungry and thirsty anymore.” he smiled. He did look better, more lively, but still a bit thin and pale. Natasha suspected that the paleness was natural, but he definitely could add a few pounds to his frame.

On the other bed, Wanda stirred a little. Pietro sat up in less than an instant; he struggled with the wires and tubes connected to him for a moment, until Clint helped him out of his predicament and to Wanda’s bedside. The young girl moaned softly and shifted on the bed, eyelashes fluttering gently against her pale cheeks. She cracked her eyes open and looked around blearily until her gaze settled on her brother’s face. It took her a moment, but Wanda’s face lit up with recognition, then realization, and she jerked upward on the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Pietro!” Wanda cried, not believing her eyes. He smiled at her, alive as anything, and wrapped her in his arms. She threw her arms around his ribcage and held on for dear life, afraid to let go and have it not be real. She could feel his heart beating in his chest, fast and light as always, and more importantly she could feel his _mind_ , reacting and reaching to her, just as it had the day she discovered what she could do with her powers. The presence of him after being alone for so long made her sob, and she buried her face into his neck, “You’re here. You’re back.” she whimpered in their native tongue.

“I came back for you. I promised I would.” he said, and she could hear him smiling. He nuzzled her uninjured shoulder and rubbed her back, “You’re my sister, I have to look after you.”

Wanda let out a slightly hysterical laugh and just kept clinging to her brother; he didn’t let go of her either, even when she soaked through his hospital scrubs with tears. Eventually she calmed enough to pull back a little and wipe her eyes. Pietro handed her a tissue and smiled at her, keeping a hand on her at all times, letting her know he was alive.

“You finally got a haircut.” she said, still giggling a little. Pietro’s head was shaved entirely, as were his eyebrows, “It looks stupid.”

Pietro ran a hand over his head, as though he was just realizing that his hair was gone. He cursed loudly and whipped his head around to find a mirror. Natasha grabbed a small hand mirror and brought it to him; he took it from her and inspected himself, cursing even more. Wanda giggled again and fell back onto her bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clint and Natasha leave the room.

Pietro tossed the mirror onto the bedside table with a clank and snuggled down next to her, throwing an arm around her and pulling her close. Wanda wrapped her arms around his torso and clung to him, reminded of that terrible night when their family lost half of its members. How different their lives had become since then, Wanda almost couldn’t believe it sometimes. She let out a long sigh and nuzzled into her brother's collarbone.

“You brought me back to life.” he said, “How?”

Wanda shrugged as best she could, lying on her side and tucked into his arms, “I don’t know. I could always feel you, when you were gone. Or no, that’s not right, I could feel where you _weren’t_ is probably more accurate.” she explained, “There was this hole at my side where you should have been but weren’t, like an amputation or a wound.”

Pietro hummed, “I think I understand.” he said, “But the others. They’re afraid.” he squeezed her tighter, as though trying to protect her, “I heard them on the jet. They’re afraid of your power.”

Wanda said nothing, feeling her brother tense against her body, “We should run.” he said, “We should run away before they try and lock you up. They think you’re dangerous.”

Wanda shook her head, “They wouldn’t do that.” she said, “They wouldn’t do that to me. They care about me. I’m useful to them.” she said. All of the times the team had come to her and tried to speak to her about how she was feeling in the wake of her brother's death came back to her; they cared about her well-being, even when they were harsh. Despite her melancholy, she had made friends with them over the months, and she felt that they had come to view her as a friend as well.

Sam she liked for his cheerfulness, and his apparent goal to show her all of America’s relevant popular culture. Steve had become something of a surrogate father/brother figure, distant, but kind, and intent on her well-being. Rhodes left her to her own devices, but always acknowledged her, and she appreciated that. Stark and Barton had not been in her life much since she came to Avengers base, but they had been at the periphery, something she had never had; she couldn’t remember any cousins or extended family, or even any friends from her days as a child. Stark had also set her up for life, and told her to come to him should she ever need anything, and though she suspected it was out of guilt, he had expressed a responsibility to her, which was endearing if nothing else. Barton also seemed to hold guilt, but he had simply left her alone afterwards; still, he seemed like he wanted to help. Natasha, she had formed a strong bond to. She had never had any older women to look up to since her mother died, and Natasha, once she let you past her hard exterior, was a warm, caring person who would lay down her life for those she cared about. And how could she leave Vision? He was so sweet and innocent that _she_ was the one who felt responsible for him, a new life only just forming his view of the world. She would be remiss if she left him behind.

No, she couldn’t leave, and they wouldn’t hurt her. She smiled and stretched up to kiss her brother’s cheek, “We’re not going anywhere.” she said, “We’re safe with them.”

“I don’t trust them.” Pietro said, frowning, “How can I trust them?”

“I trust them.” Wanda said, “So trust me.”

“I do trust you.” he said.

Wanda hummed, “Good.” she said, snuggling back down into the warmth of her brother’s arms, “Let’s sleep, I’m tired.”

“Okay.” Pietro said, quick to agree with her. He was tired too, but he wanted to look tough and strong in front of her, even though they both knew that she knew that he was tired and wanted to sleep.

“Stay with me.” Wanda said, clenching the fabric of his shirt in her hands, “I need . . . I need to know you’re still here. When I wake up.” she explained.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Pietro promised, “I’ll be here.”

Wanda smiled softly and, for the first time in many months, she drifted off into sound, uninterrupted sleep, curled up with the most important person in her life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pietro is back! And we get some exposition.


	13. Kickback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's only just started and it's already kicking my ass. It might be a while until the next chapter. Wish me luck.

To say that Clint was upset about the situation was like saying that Adolf Hitler didn’t like people of the Jewish faith. He figured he had every right to feel that way, considering everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Try as Natasha might to explain it to him, he still wasn’t wrapping his head around it; though he suspected that she didn’t quite understand it herself. None of them knew what to make of the situation, and Clint knew he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the Avengers box, so he didn’t feel that bad for not getting it.

“So what’s our plan?” he asked, rubbing his eyes until he saw spots. Normally he took good care of his eyes, but in this instance he figured he was allowed to abuse them a bit.

“Well for starters,” Steve began, pacing about the room, “We’re going to keep Ms. Harkness and Ms. Granby here for more questioning. Ms. Harkness has been forthcoming with information, but it’s nothing that we can verify.”

“Pietro Maximoff pulled off a Lazarus and jumped out of his coffin, I’d say that was verification enough.” Tony quipped, shakily sipping coffee. Of all the things to that could have shaken his worldview, Clint figured this was a doozy.

“We can’t be sure just on her word.” Steve said, “Didn’t S.H.E.I.L.D. keep a list of possible mystics and magic users?” he asked Natasha.

“There was a list, but we never got any conclusive data.” Natasha said, “We could never conclusively prove that they used anything that resembled magic.”

“Well see if you can shake anything loose.” Steve instructed, “If what she’s saying is anything close to the truth, we might be able to get a second opinion.”

Steve turned to Tony next, “I know you’re only here as a consultant, but we could really use your help dissecting the science here.” he said, “I can’t make you stay and help, but with Thor back in Asguard and Banner in the wind, we really need you.”

Tony groaned and rubbed his eyes and threaded his fingers through his already messy hair; he was looking more frazzled than Clint had ever seen him, “Yeah I’ll stick around, see what I can do. Most of the equipment is getting shipped to base, so I can meet it there.”

“Good.” Steve nodded, “Sam can go with you. Probably best if there’s at least one Avenger at Avengers base for the time being.”

“Sounds good to me, I want to be as far away as possible from all this hoodoo crap.” Sam said, tossing up his hands and shaking his head.

Steve chuckled, “We’ll take turns.” he promised, “The rest of us will stay here and guard the two prisoners and keep an eye on Pietro and Wanda. I think it’s best if no one knows where they are for now.”

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the room before Steve’s eyes settled on Clint, “You with us Clint?” he asked, “You didn’t sign up for this and we’ve no right to keep you here. If you want to go, no one will stop you.”

Clint felt his chest clench at the implication of those words; _not good enough, not good enough to be a part of this, a part of the Avengers._ Perhaps not meant to offend him, or even intentional, but still there, hidden behind the words. Clint, by all accounts, was not the brightest crayon, but he was not a stupid man.

“Mission’s not over yet.” he said, the words tumbling out of his face-hole before he could think better of it, “You called me in for this mission, I intend to see it through.”

The relief on Steve’s face was obvious, “Good, glad to have you.” he said, smiling tiredly, “For now I think we should all get some rest. It’s been a very long day.”

 

* * *

 

 

Vision knew that his existence was, by its very nature, inexplicable and altogether mystifying. In truth, he himself didn’t know how he had come into being, the parts did not add up to the sum. So, he felt that he and Wanda might understand each other a little more, after this. He and Wanda had already established some kind of bond (what kind, he couldn’t be sure at this juncture), but Vision mused that this might bring them even closer.

Why he wished for them to be closer was a mystery to him, but he wished for it all the same.

Coming upon the medical bay, Vision peered through the window on the door, seeing Wanda and her brother curled up together on the same bed. It didn’t seem very practical to him, as the beds weren’t very wide, and they looked a little cramped. They seemed to be asleep, so he phased through the door so as not to wake them. He went to stand next to their illogically shared bed, patiently waiting for Wanda to wake up so that he might speak to her.

It was close to two hours before she and her brother stirred. Wanda perceived him first, jerking a little when she saw him standing there, watching them.

“Vision?” she asked groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” he answered her. Pietro was still more asleep than she was, though he appeared to be at the end of a REM cycle and was likely to wake up soon.

“How long were you waiting?” Wanda asked, struggling to sit up, weak from her exertions and slightly trapped under her brother.

“One hour and forty two minutes.” Vision answered, not sure if he should help her up. The look she gave him made him think not.

“You were waiting for so long? Why not wake me up?” she asked.

Vision tilted his head, “You needed to sleep. It has been a very exhausting day for you.”

Wanda looked at him oddly, “Did you not think to wait somewhere else? Or do something while you waited? You did not watch the entire time, did you?”

Vision regarded her, pondering her words, “I didn’t have anything else to do other than wait, and there was nothing to be done, other than watch you.” he said, “Have I done something wrong?”

Wanda blinked up at him and he recognized her expression to be one of sympathy, “No, not wrong.” she said quietly, “Just odd.” she said with a smile.

Slowly, stiffly, she extracted herself from her brother and stood, stretching and groaning. Vision could track the muscles that shifted under her skin, and understood the exact amount of force and energy it took to move those muscles; the amount of food she would need to eat in order to produce said energy, and the exact way the synapses in her brain would need to fire in order to send the message to those muscles to make them move. Humans were so unaware of how brilliant their bodies were that he staggered to think of it. All day long they walked and talked and did a million things that were miraculous and so unlikely in the grand scheme of the universe that it was astonishing to find them right in front of his very eyes. He was glad that he was here to witness them.

Wanda smiled up at him, and he thought that, in particular, he was glad he was here to witness _her_.

Wanda’s smile faded and she looked back at her brother, “I suppose I must go to the others and speak with them now.” she said.

“They are very eager to speak to you.” Vision told her, “They are rather worked up about the events that transpired, and would very much like to know what you have to say about it.”

Wanda sighed, wobbling on her feet for a moment (Vision suffered a moment of worry that she might fall over), before she looked up at him, “I should go now, get it over with.” she said.

“That would be best.” he agreed. Neither of them moved.

Wanda glanced at her brother once more and Vision had a thought, “Perhaps we should wait for your brother to awaken and accompany us? It would be best if you and he shared your stories with the rest of the team together. It would be most efficient.”

Wanda smiled up at him, a grateful smile, “Yes, that would be best.” she said, and she sat back down on the bed next to her brother. Vision remained where he was, he did not need to make himself comfortable, not in the way humans needed to.

It was only twelve minutes later that Pietro snapped awake, going from almost dead asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. He looked around for his sister and sat up, reaching for her. They gripped each other’s hands tightly, like they were both afraid that this waking reality was a cruel dream. Put at ease by one another’s apparent realness, Wanda tugged Pietro out of bed and helped him find some proper clothes.

“I still say we run away.” Pietro whispered to her in Romani, probably meaning to exclude Vision from their conversation, but failing.

“We will not.” Wanda answered him, “I want to stay.”

“What if they try to lock us up? More cages and tests, for the rest of our lives.” Pietro hissed, clearly agitated.

“They will not do this.” Wanda said firmly, though in her native language Vision could detect a note of doubt.

He vowed in that moment that he would not let the others lock her or her brother up. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Once they had found something for Pietro to wear, they left the medical bay, the siblings hand in hand and Vision following closely. The rest of the team was scattered around the rest of the base, mostly in the lounge area, though one or two were probably guarding the prisoners.

They eventually found Natasha and Clint in one of the ‘living rooms’, signing with one another (which Vision only half understood, as many of the signs were personal or colloquial). They looked up as their party came in, and Vision did not need to be able to read minds to feel the anxiety pouring off of Wanda. He wished he had the capacity to comfort her, but he had no idea how to convey it.

Natasha scooted over on the couch and gestured for them to join her and Clint. They all sat down just as Clint stood to call the others into the room via their comm devices. Natasha turned to Wanda and gave her a warm smile.

“How are you feeling?” she inquired.

“Nervous.” Wanda admitted, squeezing her brother’s hand. It didn’t slip by the older woman’s notice; she patted Wanda’s other hand.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.” she said. Vision could detect only the slightest amount of trepidation in her voice; she wasn’t sure she could keep that promise.

Nevertheless, Wanda seemed comforted by her words, and thanked her. They sat in an anxious silence as they waited for the others to arrive, Pietro nearly vibrating out of his seat.

Tony was the first to arrive, jittery and almost as nervous as Wanda. Close on his heels was Colonel Rhodes, who looked more tired than anxious. Steve and then Sam weren’t far behind, probably having come from watching the prisoners.

They all sat down and made themselves as comfortable as they could, given the limited number of seats and the high levels of stress everyone was feeling. Vision chose to stand, as he did not need to sit in order to be comfortable. They all turned toward Wanda and waited for someone to start talking.

Steve cleared his throat, “So,” he started, then stopped, gathering his thoughts, “So, Wanda, tell us what happened.”

 

* * *

 

 

Wanda clung to her brother’s hand throughout her telling of what had happened at the compound. She also told them about the Wound and the Darkness, figuring that it was time they knew (and because it was gone now and there was nothing any of them could do about it). She could feel the eyes of the Avengers watching her closely, but she kept her own gaze fixed on her knees, too nervous to look at any of them. She didn’t want to know what was in their minds right now, with her powers or otherwise.

When she finally finished, the room was silent aside from some awkward shifting as everyone processed the information. Steve ran a hand through his hair.

“And that’s all you remember?” he asked. She nodded and he let out a sigh, “Thank you Wanda.”

“You’re not locking us up.” Pietro suddenly declared, pulling every gaze in the room toward himself, “We won’t let you lock us up like prisoners.”

“No one’s locking you up, son.” Steve said calmly, intending to soothe Pietro, “But we think it might be best if you lie low for a while.”

Pietro growled, “Sounds like getting locked up to me.” Wanda swatted him on the arm.

“We just want to keep an eye on you and your sister for a while, make sure you’re healthy.” Steve persisted.

“Make sure my sister isn’t dangerous.” Pietro sneered, “Don’t treat us like we don’t know what happens next. You want to run tests on us, see how far she can be pushed, what she can do, how to make her a good weapon.”

“You’re right.” Natasha said, cutting Steve off before he could correct her, “We do want to make sure your sister isn’t going to hurt anyone. What she did, bringing you back from the dead, that wasn’t anywhere close to what we thought her limits were.” she said, meeting Pietro’s gaze. She turned to Wanda and her eyes softened, “We’re not going to let anything bad happen to you, but we can’t let you run around without knowing what your powers can do. We don’t want you to accidentally hurt someone, or yourself. Do you understand?”

Wanda considered the older woman, “I understand.” she said quietly. Pietro started saying something in Romani, but Wanda cut him off. She didn’t want to hear his protests.

“It’s just until we can figure out if you’re safe to be around other people or not.” Steve said to her with a kind smile, “It won’t be forever.”

“And what if it is?” Pietro snapped, “What if you decide she’s too dangerous to let out and you have to keep her locked up forever?”

Steve glanced at his other teammates, “We’ll deal with that when we come to it, but I have faith in Wanda. I know she can control it.”

“Besides,” Stark piped up from the corner where he was sitting, “We let Bruce out into the world, didn’t we? He’s probably more dangerous that she is. Probably.”

Wanda smiled a little, “Thank you.” she said. Stark grinned at her, thought she could see that his face was still very pale and he was jittery.

“Alright then.” Steve said, “Tony and Sam are going to head back to base and take a look at all of the technology we brought back with us. For now, the rest of us are going to stay here, off the grid. We’ll look into better accommodations for you two, but for now we’re going to keep you here. It’s safe and comfortable and no one knows about it, so no one should bother us for a while.” he said, “Any questions?”

Wanda shook her head and Pietro only grumbled. Steve smiled at her and stood up, dismissing them. He waved for Wanda to come speak to him privately, and it took her a moment to convince her brother to let her go.

“Yes Captain?” she asked, nervous once more.

“The woman we captured, Agatha Harkness, is being kept here, but we’re going to move her as soon as we can find a place that can house her.” Steve said, “Would you like to speak with her before we send her away?”

Wanda blinked, astonished that she was getting the choice. Steve read her expression and put a hand on her shoulder, “For the record, I’m against it, but if you want to, we’re not going to stop you. I will insist that you have someone in the room with you at all times, just in case she tries something.”

Wanda nodded in understanding, “I want to see her.” she said, “If she had something to do with bringing my brother back, I should thank her, yes? And make sure that she cannot take him away again.” she finished off her sentence with a quick flash of red, a threat and a warning. She would not be alone again.

Steve chuckled, “Right.” he said, “I’ll tell the others and we’ll make arrangements.” he said, “But for now I think you should go back to your brother. He looks like he’s going to have a fit.”

Wanda turned to see her brother watching them intently, almost vibrating with tension. Actually, he _was_ vibrating, shaking the table next to him so much that it was sliding across the floor. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” she said as they fell into step with one another.

“I don’t like him.” he said in a garbled mixture of Sokovian and Romani, something only she understood.

“I trust him.” she answered, “He’s the Captain of the team, our leader.”

“I don’t like that either.” Pietro said, “We helped them last time because we helped Ultron. It was our mess and we had to help clean it up. But it killed me.” he said, and Wanda winced, squeezing his hand, “And you keep helping them and next time it could be you that gets hurt.”

“There was nowhere else.” Wanda said, “When you were gone, there was nowhere else for me to go. I was all alone and they offered me a place.” she explained, “So I stayed.”

“But I’m back now.” Pietro insisted, “We can go anywhere. We can do anything we want.”

Wanda thought about that for a moment, “Do you have anywhere in mind?’ she asked.

Pietro opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. She could see his brow furrow as he thought about it and came up with nothing. They had no home, no family, only each other.

Wanda stopped and turned to face her brother, taking his other hand in hers, “We have a place here.” she said to him, looking up into his eyes, “We can help people with these powers we’ve been given. These people, the Avengers, are good people, and they’ve taken care of me since you—” she swallowed the end of that sentence, “We can belong here.”

Pietro looked away and grumbled, but offered no rebuttal. Wanda knew she had all but won, though he would put on a show of resisting and eventually make it sound as though it was _his_ idea to stay, but she knew that she had won. She smiled and tugged him along.

“I’m still twelve minutes older than you.” he huffed.

Wanda laughed, “It doesn’t count now. You were gone for months. That makes me older now.”

Pietro grumbled, “I don’t like it.”

“Too bad.” Wanda giggled. For the first time in a while, she thought that things were going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially got kinda stuck on this chapter, but I think I have a better idea of what I'm doing now.


	14. Aftershocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. My computer died and my classes have been stressful. Hopefully now that my computer is working again I can write a bit more.

Tony groaned and rubbed his eyes, hoping to stop his vision from doubling. He looked back at the screen in front of him and nope, no such luck. With a sigh he leaned back and put his face in his hands. Not for the first time he wished he could talk to Bruce, if only to have another brilliant mind to bounce off of, instead of chasing his own thoughts around in circles.

 

“Tony? Are you still up?” came a voice, making Tony jump, “Sorry.” Steve said, putting up his hands, “I didn't think you'd still be awake. You leave early tomorrow.”

 

Sleep was, like most things in Tony's life, a cruel mistress; blissful sleep was hard to grasp hold of, especially when he had no distractions from whatever he had buried himself in. To stir mud into that pot of churning water, what sleep he did get was most often plagued by horrific nightmares. After Afghanistan, it was mostly of water, coming for his lungs and choking the life out of him. Sometimes it was the darkness of the cave, rough hewn and cutting into him as the space shrank and shrank around him until it crushed him. Often Yinsen was there, somewhere in either the periphery or front and centre, watching and doing nothing or dying or killing him. Then of course there had been the nightmares of getting his heart ripped out after Stane. After that, there was the wormhole thing to deal with and the whole bundle of PTSD crap to slog through. Lately they had changed to the nightmare vision that their own Scarlet Witch had cooked up for him in his brain, coupled with the guilt he felt over Ultron and Sokovia. By now he was used to the nightmares, but that didn't mean he didn't dread facing them in the shadows of his subconscious. He was terrified of what his own brain was waiting to spring on him the moment he finally succumbed to the bodily need to recharge.

 

It was a little embarrassing to admit that to Captain America though, so instead he answered simply, “Couldn't sleep. Too keyed up.”

 

Steve smiled, “I know the feeling.” he said, walking fully into the room and taking a seat by Tony at the desk, “You doing okay?”

 

Tony tried hard not to flinch, “Yeah, fine.” he answered curtly, hoping that big blond and wholesome got the message to leave it alone.

 

Steve frowned and Tony braced himself, “Are you sure? It's been a rough week for you.” he said, all genuine sincerity and concern. Damn him.

 

Tony lasted all of seven seconds under Steve's blue, worried-puppy gaze, “Just dealing with some stuff. No worries Cap.” he said, giving the larger man a tight smile.

 

Steve didn't look convinced, “You're my friend Tony, of course I worry.” he said, and didn't that just stab you through the heart?

 

“You don't have to.” Tony said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Inwardly he cursed at the heartbroken look on Steve's face.

 

“Tony.” he murmured quietly, “I hate seeing you like this. I know I'm not one of your best or closest friends, but you're one of mine, and I hope that you feel like you can talk to me, if you need to.”

 

Now, Tony had been surrounded by people his whole life, but he was very unused to having friends. He trusted Pepper and Rhodey with his life, but until this Avenger thing started, it had ended there. Now he had more friends than he knew what to do with and it was messing with his bearings. And along came Steve, who was so sincere and sweet that Tony couldn't believe it sometimes. He meant what he said and said what he meant; it was easy to see why his father had become obsessed with finding him.

 

Tony sighed and deflated, leaning against Steve in an ungraceful flop, “You're a close friend Steve.” he said, “I'm just going through some stuff right now.”

 

“Yeah I know.” Steve said, adjusting so he was at an angle more comfortable for Tony to lean on, “But we're here for you Tony. You don't have to go through it alone.”

 

“Y'see, it's stuff like that that gets me all weirded out.” Tony said. When Steve tensed under him, he quickly elaborated, “I mean, I'm really not used to this. I'm used to dealing with this shit on my own.”

 

Steve relaxed, “You don't have to deal with it alone. We're all here for you.” he said, reaching one hand up to rub Tony's back.

 

Tony let out a non-committal hum and stayed where he was, even though he probably shouldn't be leaning on Steve for so long. It was nearly fifteen minutes before he felt Steve shift uncomfortably under him, alerting him to the fact that he had been dozing off and, embarrassingly enough, drooling a little.

 

“Fuck, sorry.” Tony said, snapping up and wiping his mouth, “Guess I've been up longer than I thought.”

 

“Don't worry about it.” Steve said, “I was just adjusting a little. I didn't mind.” he smiled, kind and genuine and didn't that just break your heart? Steve would sit in uncomfortable positions for long periods of time just so a kind-of friend could have a nap. It made Tony's teeth hurt, really.

 

“We should both get some sleep. Real sleep.” Tony said, standing up, probably too quickly to be natural, “There are supposed to be beds in the place, right?”

 

“Yeah, somewhere.” Steve said, “I'm not sure how many though. I can find a couch if it comes to that though.”

 

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, not a chance.” he said, “You're twice my size, I'll take the couch.”

 

Steve started to protest and Tony started walking purposefully toward the door, “You can argue all you want, I will out-stubborn you on this.”

 

That actually got a laugh out of the super soldier, “Oh really? You think you can out-stubborn me? Do you realize who you're talking to?”

 

Tony grinned over his shoulder, “Cap, I'm a spoiled rich genius. I always get what I want.”

 

Steve laughed again, shaking his head, “Would have thought that the spoiled rich guy would be clamouring to take the bed, not offering to take the couch.”

 

“Momentary act of insanity?” Tony suggested, smiling when Steve laughed again. The two of them had had a rocky start, way back at the beginning of this Avengers nonsense, but somehow they had become friends.

 

Steve clapped him on the shoulder, “Come on, I'm sure there's enough beds to go 'round.” he said, eyes still full of mirth.

 

“Spoil sport.” Tony pouted, which only made them both laugh.

 

As it turned out, there was only one bed left. The facility wasn't that big, and was only meant to house groups of two, maybe three people and staff at any given time. Even though some of the people on the team were holed up in the medical wing and one of them didn't need sleep, there was still only one bed left.

 

“I'll take the couch.” Steve offered before Tony could say anything.

 

“Hold it.” Tony reached out and grabbed Steve's bicep before he could wander off, “We talked about this, I'm smaller than you, I'll take the couch.”

 

“But you need sleep more.” Steve said, serious now, “I know you've had a bad week Tony, and I can see the way it's taking its toll on you. Take the bed.” he said, gently prying Tony's hand from his bicep.

 

Tony grabbed onto his hand instead, “Well, I probably won't sleep anyway, so just take the bed.” he said. He winced, knowing he'd said the wrong thing.

 

“Tony.” Steve murmured. The long of pain on his face made Tony ache. So much so that he stepped back, distancing himself.

 

“I never sleep that well at the best of times.” Tony said, “Never really have, even when I was younger. Just couldn't shut my brain off. Comes with the territory of being a genius.”

 

“Yeah, I remember Howard was the same way.” Steve said, and it was his turn to wince, “Sorry, I know you don't like to talk about it.”

 

Tony didn't grace that with an answer; now was not the time to be dragging his Daddy issues into the spotlight, “Take the bed Steve. I only ever sleep well when I have something warm to curl around.”

 

Steve looked at him oddly for a long moment, “Why don't we share then?” he said after a moment.

 

Tony jerked, “What?” he asked.

 

Steve shrugged, “ You said you sleep better curled around something warm. I'm warm. Sleep with me.”

 

Tony choked on air and Steve went bright red, “What I meant to say, that is- um.” he stammered, going redder by the second, and Tony couldn't help laughing, which only made Steve flush harder, “You know what I meant, asshole!”

 

Tony managed to calm down enough to take a few breaths, “Yeah, yeah, I know.” he said, “And really Steve, you don't have to. I've gone longer than this without sleep.”

 

“I want to.” Steve said, “You like to play it off like you're a selfish person Tony, but you're not. Let someone take care of you for once.”

 

Tony could feel two urges well up within him; one to accept Steve's offer, and the other to reject him. The latter was more familiar to him; he was always alone, and he always would be, because he was Tony Stark and he had only himself to depend on. But the other part of him wanted to say yes, to finally have someone to take care of him. He'd been alone for so long, ever since childhood, really, and he's always looked after himself. And here was Steve, offering to take that burden off of his shoulders for a few hours, just to let him sleep. Honestly, what was he supposed to do with that?

 

“You don't have to.” Tony said, but it came out weaker than he intended.

 

Steve just smiled, “It's fine Tony, I _want_ to.” he said. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed, bending to take his shoes off. After a moment, Tony followed him.

 

It should have been awkward, snuggling in bed together, but it mostly wasn't. There was a bit of grumbling over where to put their limbs, but once they were settled it was like two puzzle pieces coming together after a long and frustrating time spent trying to find the exact right pieces. Steve had an arm wrapped around Tony's shoulder's, laying on his back and slightly curved into him, while Tony was mostly on his side and curled into Steve, arm laying across his broad chest. Tony tucked his head into Steve's shoulder and the other man just tilted his head so his chin didn't press uncomfortably into his head.

 

“Night Tony.” Steve hummed quietly. Tony only sighed in response. He'd missed curling up close to someone in the night. Pepper said she'd always felt a little strangled if she was cuddled in her sleep, so they had mostly slept on opposite side of the bed. Steve didn't seem to have any such reservations.

 

Not that Pepper and Steve were anything alike in what they were to Tony. Not at all. Nope. Nada.

 

Tony replayed this in his head as he drifted to sleep. Just as he lost consciousness, he could have sworn he felt lips press into the top of his head.

 

* * *

 

At around five am, Sam gave up and slipped out of bed. Pulling on a sweater and some socks, he walked down the hallway to the kitchen. He'd grab a something small to eat and hopefully catch at least a catnap before he had to be awake to head back to base.

 

This whole situation was messed up. He had known when he signed on to the Avengers that he was in for a bizarre trip, but this had passed beyond bizarre and skipped right into 'bat-shit crazy'. He'd meant what he said about wanting to get away from it earlier. He'd had a pretty good grasp of Thor, but this was an entire other ballpark that none of them had been expecting. He'd always thought of Thor as a kind of super advanced alien being thing, and was fine with that. But Wanda wasn't Asgardian, she was human; an enhanced human, but human all the same. Did magic really exist? If so, what the hell did that mean for the world?

 

What did it mean for the Avengers?

 

He rounded the corner to the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Natasha sitting there, the kettle on and a Glock disassembled on the counter.

 

“Shit woman, wear a bell.” he grumbled, “The hell are you doing in here with the lights off?”

 

Natasha raised a delicate eyebrow, “Making tea.” she answered smoothly, gesturing to the electric kettle next to her, “Want a cup?”

 

Sam sighed, “Sure, why not?” he said, walking to the fridge and cracking it open. Wincing as the bright light hit his eyes, he reached for an apple, “You want an apple or something?” he called over his shoulder.

 

“No, thank you.” Natasha said, eyes trained on the parts of her gun, even through the darkness. Sam could see that she was going mostly by feel though, training herself to be able to clean this weapon even without sight. It was pretty impressive actually.

 

Sam knew that something else was wrong. He'd known Natasha long enough now that he could tell that something was bothering her. If he was Clint, he might be able to tell what it was just by looking at her, but she didn't have the same relationship with him. He almost envied them sometimes; they were obviously close, to the point where they were sometimes mistaken for a couple (and when that happened, they often didn't correct the assumption), but it went beyond that. He'd asked around a bit about their past, but even Tony and all his hacking skills couldn't come up with any definable answer.

 

Tonight though, Clint didn't seem to be here, so it was up to him to help. It probably wasn't his business to stick his nose into it, but damn him if he didn't want to help. He'd always loved helping, which was why he'd initially joined the army, and afterwards gone to help the returned veterans with PTSD (might as well do something with that psychology degree). He just couldn't leave people to struggle on their own.

 

Sam shut the fridge, shrouding them in darkness once again, “How you doing?” he asked, bracing one hip against the counter and munching on his apple.

 

Natasha gave him another raised eyebrow, “What makes you think there's something wrong?” she was not someone you played games with, verbal or otherwise.

 

“You're awake making tea at five am?” Sam said, “I know we like to start early in the Avengers, but I've never seen you earlier than nine if you can help it.”

 

The kitchen fell into silence for a long moment as Sam waited patiently for Natasha to answer him. He'd learned quickly to let Natasha do things as she liked, or face her wrath. She could be trusted to manage her own time properly, unlike some others (read; Clint and Tony).

 

“I couldn't sleep.” Natasha finally admitted, quietly, “I'm worried about Wanda.”

 

Sam nodded, “We certainly weren't expecting this.” he said.

 

The kettle clicked off and Natasha set about making two cups of tea, saving herself from answering. Sam let her take her time, getting the feeling that there was more to this than she was letting on. She handed him his mug of tea and settled down with her own. After a long moment she spoke again.

 

“I promised Wanda I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.” she said softly, “But I don't know if I can keep that promise.”

 

Sam watched Natasha carefully, “You're pretty protective of her, aren't you?”

 

Natasha let out a long sigh, “She reminds me of me.” she said, “I was her age when I officially started working. I know it's different circumstances, but when I look at her, I can't help but want to protect her.” she set her mug aside and started cleaning her gun again, “I feel the same about any young woman I see in this line of work, but with her I feel it more acutely because I spend so much more time with her, I think.”

 

Sam smiled, “Well, you can recognize it at least. That's good.” he said.

 

Natasha smiled at him through the darkness, “I know my own head better than most.” she said, “After I switched sides I had to put it back together myself. It took a long time, but I know who I am now.” and she said it with such confidence that Sam had no choice but to be impressed.

 

They lapsed into silence again and Natasha finished cleaning her Glock and started to assemble it, still mostly in the dark. Sam was nearly finished with his tea by the time she spoke again, “I'm worried about what she can do.” she said quietly.

 

Sam decided to choose his words carefully; one false move and Natasha would close up, “I don't think any of us were expecting this to happen. We're all worried.” he said.

 

“You weren't there when it happened. Clint and I were right next to her.” Natasha said, “I _saw_ what she could do. I saw her _rip open reality_ and pull her brother's soul back into this world.” Natasha said.

 

“You're afraid of what she can do?” Sam asked, only half questioning. That sounded like plenty to be scared of to him.

 

“I'm _worried_ about what she can do.” she repeated, “That kind of power doesn't go unnoticed. Someone somewhere has taken notice by now, or will take notice, and they're going to come for her.”

 

Sam hadn't thought of that before, but now he shuddered to have it brought to mind. If there were beings out there wanting to get a hold of Wanda's powers, he didn't think most of them would have good intentions, towards Wanda or to what her power could be used for.

 

Natasha finished assembling her weapon, “I'm going to have a talk with Miss Harkness tomorrow.” she proclaimed, “There are too many questions and not enough answers here.”

 

“Yeah.” Sam said, “Keep me posted?” he asked. He liked Wanda, and knowing she was about to be the centre of a magical shit storm didn't comfort him in the least.

 

Natasha nodded and went back to her tea. Sam smiled and tossed his apple core into the trash bin. As he turned to leave, he heard her say, “Thanks Sam.”

 

He smiled, “You're welcome.”

 

Sam had to stifle a laugh as he left the kitchen and a quiet, “And for fucks sake don't _tell_ anyone.” followed him.

 

 

* * *

 

Wanda waited until she was sure her brother had gone to sleep. She was tempted to follow him, knowing that for once her dreams would not be filled with that day she lost him playing over and over again in her head, but she had other things to do. She had to make sure that Pietro was here to stay, so that she could curl up next to him and sleep for a long time.

 

Gently, so she didn't jostle her brother, she slipped out of bed and tucked the covers up around him. Pietro twitched a little at the loss of heat, but a little bit of her powers was enough to calm him back to sleep. It wouldn't hold for very long, but hopefully it would be enough for her to do what needed to be done.

 

She had to speak with the witch. Alone.

 

Slipping on her shoes, Wanda kept her steps light as she made her way through the halls towards the holding cells. She nearly bumped into Sam, but caught herself at the last moment and got around him without him noticing her. She needed to speak to the witch without anyone to temper her. She knew that Steve only wanted to protect her, but she could take care of herself.

 

Finally making it to the cell block, she used her powers to find the right door and open it. She paused to wonder if Agatha Harkness could do the same with her powers, and if so, why hadn't she? Shaking the thought off, she opened the door and walked in.

 

Miss Harkness was sitting at the little table provided in the cells. She glanced up at Wanda and smiled pleasantly, like she had been waiting for her to come, like she had known Wanda's plans. She gestured to the chair opposite her at the table and waited.

 

Like the charm bag, Wanda could detect no ill intent emanating from Miss Harkness. She didn't appear to want to hurt her, or cause her any harm, but Wanda kept on her guard, just in case. In terms of physical strength, Wanda was younger and hardier than the fragile looking old lady, but she didn't know if they were evenly matched in terms of power.

 

“I assure you my dear,” Harkness said suddenly, “You have every advantage here. I have as much chance at defeating you as I do of turning into a frog.”

 

Wanda blinked, “You can read minds?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She finally sat down across from the other woman.

 

“In a way.” Harkness replied cryptically, “You want to ask me about your brother.”

 

“In a way.” Wanda mirrored, lowering her voice a little, hoping she sounded more threatening than she felt, “He won't be taken from me again.” she stated.

 

“You're quite right my dear.” Miss Harkness said, “You're brother has returned to the world of the living, body and soul. He won't fade or suddenly cease. He is alive and whole, once more.”

 

Wanda couldn't really believe what she was hearing, but neither could she detect any lie, “I really brought him back?” she asked, hating how unsure and scared she sounded to her own ears.

 

“You really did, my dear.” Harkness said, exuding nothing but sincerity, sympathy, and kindness. Wanda did not believe she had any malicious intentions.

 

Still, Wanda wasn't about ready to forgive her yet, “You stabbed me.” she said, feeling the distant throb of her shoulder. It was healing quickly, quicker than it should have been, but it still ached, “Why?”

 

“To bring you back from the edge, my dear.” Harkness explained, “The spell I had to lay so that you're efforts were successful was extraordinarily powerful, but it still ran the risk of trapping you on the other side. I had to bring you back into this world before the doors shut behind you. Pain is the most effective way to do that.”

 

That made sense, though Wanda didn't like it, “What was the spell you cast?” she asked.

 

Harkness smiled, “A very advanced spell. Something that only few have ever successfully cast. I only laid the spell, you cast it. You're raw power was enough to complete a spell that take decades to master.” she said. She suddenly leaned forward, serious now, “Wanda, your power is like nothing I have ever encountered, and I have lived a very long life.” Harkness paused here, letting Wanda take it in, “For the moment, you are a brilliant star, new and bright, burning across the cosmos for all to see. And all will see, and come to you to use your warmth and light for their own purposes. They will consume you until you have nothing left, until you are nothing but a dim speck, burnt out and left to sputter and die.”

 

Wanda felt her chest clench at the words, but Harkness continued, “Your actions in Uzbekistan were a beacon to everyone that has the power to see it. You blasted across this and several other dimensions that you are a powerful witch and that you are an ignorant one, easily manipulated and exploited.” she said, “They are coming for you, Wanda.”

 

Wanda looked at her, suddenly feeling like the child she was desperately trying not to be, “How can I stop it?” she asked, the words nearly strangled in her throat by the fear. She had known that something colossal had happened when she had brought her brother back, but she hadn't thought she had done anything that would put her in danger past the initial.

 

Harkness stood and walked around to Wanda, “You can either accept your fate, or you can allow me to teach you.” she said, “You are at the precipice of a very dangerous world, Wanda Maximoff, and it will swallow you whole if you let it.”

 

Wanda thought about her life; last week, she wouldn't have cared much, or maybe have even welcomed oblivion. A year ago she might not have believed this woman in front of her, even with her emerging powers. But this was no longer last week or a year ago. This was now, and now she had painted a target on her back and the people she loved were in danger because of her. She had just gotten her brother back, and she couldn't bare the thought of being ripped from him again.

 

Resolute, she looked up at Harkness and nodded her consent. Harkness smiled and put a withered hand on her shoulder, “Good choice, my dear.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.


	15. Interrogation Nation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter would have been done WAY sooner, but my computer decided to be an asshole and corrupt the file. So I had to rewrite the WHOLE THING on top of all the school work I had to do. So that's why it took me so long.

The next morning, Sam and Tony were getting set up to head back to Avengers base with all of the equipment they had confiscated from the desert compound. Steve started to have second thoughts about sending them back, being just the two of them (and Tony without his Iron Man suit), but he forced it out of his head. They were both capable of defending themselves and each other. Sam was ex-military and kept up with his daily training regiment, and Tony was no slouch when it came to self-defense, inventing on the fly and using his head to gain the upper hand in a fight.

 

Steve had worried that it might be awkward for the two of them in the morning after they had shared a bed, but he needn't have worried. He had only woken up a few minutes before Tony had, and had actually gotten the chance to see Tony at his most relaxed (and most vulnerable, the protective streak in him whispered). However, when Tony had finally joined the realm of the wakeful again, there hadn't been any awkwardness to be found. Just a jab about morning breath and more good-natured teasing. It had been so natural between them that it was almost as if they had been sleeping in the same bed for years, and this was just another morning of the same.

 

Returning to the now, Steve noticed that everything was packed and ready to go. Sam and Tony had turned to the team and were saying their goodbyes. Steve clapped Sam on the shoulder in a one armed hug (he was still figuring out how to navigate showing affection for other men in the 21st century; why couldn't guys just hug normally?) and told him to be safe. He then turned to Tony.

 

“Don't work so hard, okay?” Steve said, clapping Tony on the shoulder like he'd done to Sam.

 

Tony leaned into the weird hug, “Yes sir, o' Captain my Captain.” he said, grinning. He yelped when Steve pinched him.

 

“I'm being serious, take care of yourself.” Steve said, though he was smiling softly, “You need to take better care of yourself.”

 

Tony chuckled, “I'll try Steve.” he said, “Well, I should get going, this shit isn't going to figure itself out.”

 

“What a world that would be if that were the case.” Steve said, “We'll keep in touch. Let us know what you find.”

 

“Right.” Tony said, suddenly serious again, “I'll let you know what I find as soon as I know what the hell I'm looking at.”

 

Steve chuckled, then they said their goodbyes. Steve watched as the jet took off and let up a silent prayer for his friends, his best friends in this century, would be safe. He took a deep breath and turned to the rest of his team.

 

“Alright, we've got two prisoners that know what we want to know. Miss Harkness has been eager to share so far, but Dr. Granby has been silent. We need to know what the scientists were doing and what Hydra, A.I.M., and Ten Rings planned to do with the people they resurrected. Natasha and I will talk to Miss Harkness, Clint and Rhodes, I want you two to talk to Dr. Granby. Vision, keep an eye on the Maximoff's, I don't want them wandering around too much or running off.” Steve commanded, looking into the faces of his team. He was met with the absolute trust that was earned through good leadership and friendship. He started walking and the others fell into step next to him. Vision broke off to go find the Maximoff twins in the med bay, while the rest followed him to the cell block.

 

They were just reaching the cell block when a gust of wind nearly knocked them over. A flash of silver out of the corner of his eye was all the warning he had before Pietro crashed into him, knocking him over.

 

“What have you done with her!?” the teen shouted, looking both livid and worried. His hands were shaking so much that he was vibrating them.

 

“Stand down.” Steve ordered as Natasha tensed to spring and Clint reached for his bow. He picked himself up and drew himself to his full height, towering over Pietro's lanky frame, “What are you talking about?” he asked calmly.

 

Pietro shoved him (or it felt like he did, Steve didn't see him move), “Don't play stupid with me! Where is Wanda!? Where did you take her!?” he demanded, obviously furious.

 

“We haven't taken Wanda anywhere.” Steve said sternly, trying not to appear like he was on guard. He didn't want to set Pietro off. He was more hotheaded than he had assumed, “She isn't with you?”

 

“Did she maybe take a walk?” Clint asked, lowering his bow but not putting it away.

 

Pietro shook his head, “No, she is not anywhere in the compound. I searched for her.” he said.

 

“Did you search everywhere?” Natasha asked, “This place is pretty big, are you sure you didn't miss anywhere?”

 

“The only place I haven't searched is here.” Pietro said, gesturing around him to the cell block. Steve glanced back to Natasha; she nodded and he turned to the others.

 

“Fan out, search the cells for Wanda. Start with the two prisoners.” he ordered. The others nodded and fell into the formations he'd laid out, himself and Natasha, and Clint and Rhodes. Vision joined them a moment later, imperceptibly worried, but immediately understanding the situation.

 

Steve gestured to him, “Take Pietro back to the med bay. We'll radio in when we find her.” he said.

 

“I'm staying! She's my sister!” Pietro protested.

 

Steve rounded on him, “Exactly. You are too close to this. You're emotional and physically weak, and I can't have you running around and compromising this operation. Return to the medical bay. That's an order.” he growled.

 

Pietro shrank back a little, cowed by the full brunt of Steve's authoritative presence. He geared himself up for another bout of arguing when Rhodes let out a shout, “She's here!”

 

Pietro was gone in a moment, appearing next to Clint as Rhodes led Wanda out of Harkness's cell by the arm. He shut the door with a bang and let her go, though it was obvious that he was none too pleased. Pietro wrapped his arms around her just as Steve stormed over.

 

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, causing the young girl to jump back a little.

 

“I wanted to talk to Agatha.” Wanda said, a little intimidated but not frightened. She knew that Steve wouldn't hurt her.

 

“You were supposed to wait for someone to be with you.” Steve tried his best not to growl, “You could have been killed! We have no idea what that woman is capable of or what she wants with you!” he shouted, losing his temper.

 

Wanda shrank back, “She does not want to hurt me.” she said, “She wants to teach me. She-”

 

“You know what,” Steve cut her off, “I'm not interested in hearing it right now. Go to the med bay with your brother and stay there until I come tell you otherwise.”

 

Pietro looked like he was about to protest, but Wanda gripped his arm tightly. She knew that Steve had already lost his temper and was liable to snap even further if they pushed him. She slunk around him and started walking back to the medical bay, Pietro in tow and Vision following after them.

 

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands. After fighting in WWII, facing off against Red Skull, and surviving a 70 year dip in the arctic, that girl was lining up to be the death of him.

 

“Y'all right Cap?” Clint asked, putting his hand on Steve's back lightly.

 

Steve let out a long breath, “Yeah, I'll be fine.” he said, “She scared the hell out of me.”

 

“She's reckless and underestimates danger.” Rhodes said, “A lethal combination if you can't convince her otherwise. We'll train it out of her eventually Cap, don't worry.”

 

Steve groaned and leaned against the wall, “If she keeps this up, we won't have enough time for 'eventually' to roll around.”

 

Natasha shifted her weight in the way Steve had come to recognize as her trying to make up her mind about something she wasn't sure of, “Do you want me to talk to her?” she asked.

 

“Later.” Steve said, pushing up from the wall, “Right now, we have prisoners to interrogate.”

 

* * *

Pietro was silent until they were out of earshot of the captain, then he hissed at her in Romani, “What were you thinking!? You scared the hell out of me!”

 

“I wasn't in any danger. Agatha couldn't hurt me if she wanted to, I'm stronger than she is.” Wanda replied in the same language. She glanced at Vision, who was watching them, but she couldn't be sure if he understood them or not.

“We can't know that. We don't know anything about her other than she wants you for some reason.” Pietro said, waving his arms around the way he always did when he was upset.

 

“She wants to _teach_ me Pietro. She wants to show me how to use my powers better.” Wanda insisted, “I was never in any danger around her.”

 

“Sure, the way Strucker wanted to _teach_ us.” Pietro growled, “She just wants to make you into a better weapon for her own uses.”

 

Wanda bristled, eyes glowing red and her temper flared, “I'm a lot more capable of protecting myself now than I ever was. If Agatha was planning on hurting me, I would know about it.”

 

Vision stepped forward at that moment, “If I might interject, I believe Wanda is very capable of defending herself.” he said, revealing that, yes, he could understand them.

 

“Stay out of it, Tin Man.” Pietro growled in English.

 

“Don't call him that!” Wanda shouted at her brother, shoving him in the shoulder.

 

Pietro was surprised by the force of his sister's anger and was suddenly reminded that he had been dea- _gone-_ for several months, almost half a year. Wanda had been on her own for that entire time, growing and changing while he stayed static. He had always been her protector, but now she no longer needed him to do that.

 

Wanda, probably sensing his sudden melancholy, touched his arm, “Pietro.” she called softly, “I am not a little girl any more. You don't have to take care of me.”

 

Pietro forced a smile, “I know.” he said, wrapping his sister into a hug, “But you were still foolish, going to see that woman alone.”

 

“I didn't want to worry anyone.” Wanda said softly, “I could handle it on my own.”

 

Vision stepped forward again, “Miss Maximoff, I believe I speak for everyone on the team when I say that you do not have to handle it on your own. That is the crux of belonging to a team in the first place, is it not?” he said, offering her a small smile. Pietro could feel Wanda smile back at him over his shoulder where her chin rested.

 

“And team or not, I'm your brother.” Pietro said, pulling away and focusing her attention back at him, “Even if you can handle yourself, you don't have to because I'm here and I'm going to take care of you whether you like it or not.”

 

Wanda chuckled and he tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, “We should get to the medical bay. Steve is very strict when he's mad.” she said.

 

Pietro scowled, but Wanda only laughed and walked off, curls bouncing as she went. Peitro thought that she looked a lot like their mother with her hair that way. For a long time she had worn it straight because it was easier to take care of, and it hid their identity as Romani a little better. Pietro remembered the way Wanda had cried the day they had entered the orphanage and one of the nuns had made a nasty comment about keeping things locked away from the 'thieving gypsy brats'. After that he had helped her straighten her hair every day to help hide their heritage, even after they had left the orphanage. Had she stopped straightening it because he was gone? Or because she no longer felt that she needed to?

 

They reached the medical bay and sat down on the bed they had claimed as their own. Pietro was glad to sit down; he was healing faster than was normal for a regular person, but he was still pretty weak from all that had happened. The doctors that had examined him had mentioned something about 'muscle atrophy' and he was definitely feeling (and looking) weaker than he did before.

 

A nurse bustled in shortly after and tutted over them for a moment before disappearing and then reappearing with a tray of breakfast for each of them. She reminded Pietro of one of the nuns that he remembered actually liking; no-nonsense, but caring and sympathetic. She left them alone with Vision (he doesn't seem to need to eat) and Pietro quickly polished off his portion of breakfast, taking Wanda's toast when she offerd it to him.

 

“They will be finished soon.” Wanda announced a while later, still absently picking at her little green salad. Pietro would take it off her hands for her, but he doesn't want to take too much of her food; she was looking just as thin and gaunt as he was, and she wasn't the one who had died.

 

“How do you know?” Vision asked, tilting his head a little. Like always, he sat a ways away from them, letting them have some sense of privacy. Pietro wasn't sure why, but it felt like the artificial man was always watching Wanda, rather than the both of them.

 

Wanda shrugged, “I just _know_.” she said, the inflection sounding odd in English. Pietro believed that she was right. Ever since they were children, Wanda just seemed to _know_ certain things, or be in the exact right place at the exact right time.

 

Pietro wondered if Wanda's powers were purely from Strucker's experiments, or if Strucker had merely augmented something that had already existed within her. Even when they were children, Wanda had taken to their mother's lessons of basic charms and witchcraft much better than he had, and she had a knack for finding things, or knowing things. When they lived on the streets, she knew instinctively the best streets to find food or money on, and the best alleys and dark corners to hide in for the night. Pietro on the other hand, had always been light on his feet and loved to run, and was possessed by the need to _wander_ , to explore, to never be settled for very long. Their mother had laughed and petted his then dark hair, telling them that his sister got all the magic in the family, but he had gotten all the wanderlust that their people were know for.

 

Thinking of their mother always put Pietro in a mood, so he shook the thoughts from his mind and stood up to stretch, “I still think we should run.” he said in Romani.

 

Wanda shook her head, “It's better here.” she said, with the same conviction she had used when she had told him that they should go with Strucker.

 

Pietro shifted on his feet for another moment, fighting with his desire  his instinct  to run, and then sat back down next to his sister.

 

* * *

 

Rhodes was used to stubborn. He been friends with Tony for a good chunk of his adult life, so he'd been inoculated against all kinds of stubborn. The 'deflect onto a different topic because I don't want to talk about it' stubborn (Tony's go-to brand), the 'distract them with some other stupid thing I've done to start an ultimately harmless argument' stubborn (another of Tony's staples), the 'I'm going to talk in circles so maybe you forget what you were gonna say' stubborn (Tony was _very_ good at this one, but Rhodes was just as good at blocking him), and the 'I know you know that _I_ know that we're in a stalemate about this so I'm just going to sit here and stew and make you do the same until one of us cracks' stubborn (Tony had tried this one, but he had the attention span of a concussed puppy with an attention disorder, so it never worked out for him ). Rhodes had encountered them all, and he'd overcome all of them. He had unending patience for all of the different flavors that stubborn came in, no matter how bitter.

 

Right now, Rita Granby was in the midst of trying out the last kind of stubborn on the list. Which was just fine for him, he had all day to sit there and wait for her to make the first move. It was a battle of wills that the A.I.M. scientist had no chance of winning. Unlike his little spats with Tony, Rhodes had no emotional stake in this. He had no reason to get her to talk outside of the information he wanted, so there was no impatience brought about by worrying for his friend. He could sit there across from her all day, waiting for her to give in and start talking.

 

Contrary to popular opinion, he hadn't even worried about Clint being in the room with him. Clint was Hawkeye, and Hawkeye was _the_ sniper; he could sit still for hours, waiting for his target to get into position for that fraction of a second that really counted.

 

So they were waiting; sitting across from the woman they had captured red handed trying to bring people back to life like some messed up Frankenstein movie (and he actually preferred the book, by the by), waiting for her to give in and start taking. She was an intelligent woman, so she had to know that her only way a reasonably comfortable cell  as opposed to a dark, damp hole in the middle of nowhere  was to swallow her pride and start spilling the beans.

 

So far she had been silently glaring at them, as though trying to set them on fire with her brain. Rhodes had just been sitting across from her and watching her with a look of schooled blandness. Clint was more or less falling asleep in his chair, feet propped up on the table and leaning back, hands cradling the back of his head in the stereotypical 'I'm really not giving a shit about this' pose. Rhodes didn't think they'd have much longer to wait.

 

“I want protection.”

 

Bingo.

 

“If you want anything, you're going to have to start talking.” Rhodes said back without pause. He tried not to shift in his seat to show his excitement at _finally_ getting somewhere with this woman.

 

Dr. Granby glared harder at him, “I want _protection_.” she insisted, “Or I don't say another word.”

 

Clint chuckled quietly as Rhodes leaned forward, threading his fingers together in front of him on the table, “Right now, you don't have anything worth protecting. If you want _anything_ , I suggest you start talking.”

 

Rita looked intimidated for all of a second before she began to laugh, a hysterical, manic edge making it only slightly unsettling, “I _know_ how this works, War Machine.” she bit out, saying his call-sign like a curse, “We could keep pretending like you're going to throw me in jail if I don't cooperate, but I know the system. I know that I'm too valuable to just be locked away. I've been experimenting with things other scientists won't even think about. They'll be knocking down the door for a change to get at what I know.” she leaned forward, “So threaten me all you like, but a mind like mine won't just get shuffled off to never be seen again. In a few years time, I'll probably be working for your side.”

 

Rhodes was about to counter her when Clint piped up, “So why ask for protection?” he asked, “If you know you've got a cushy little spot lined up for you no matter what happens here, why ask for protection?”

 

Rita didn't have time to respond before Clint was sitting up in his chair, grinning at her, “Because we're not the ones you need protecting from, are we?”

 

Rita shifted in her chair and cast her eyes down, “A.I.M. are opportunists, but Hydra are fanatical freaks. I was against throwing our lot in with them from the start, but here we are.” she gestured with her heavily bandaged hand, “It doesn't matter to them that I'm not Hydra, they'll see it as a betrayal and they'll come for me. So,” she paused to let it sink in, “I want _protection_.”

 

Rhodes glanced at Clint; they were at a stalemate here. Rita knew what she was talking about when she said that she would probably end up working for them in a year or two, irritatingly enough. The scientific field was desperate for people who had even the most basic grasp of the unknown after everything that had happened since the Battle of New York. If nothing else, the military would want to keep her away from any other parties that might be interested and try to strike a deal with her as soon as she was released from Avengers custody. However, giving in to her gave her the upper hand in this situation, and Rhodes knew what kind of thing people like her could do with the upper hand.

 

They didn't really have a choice though, so Rhodes gave a subtle nod and turned back to Rita, “We'll keep Hydra from getting at you, but you need to give us something worth protecting.” he said, “Tell us exactly what you were trying to accomplish in that lab.”

 

Rita gave them a 'cat got the canary' grin and sat up a little straighter, “We were trying to bring people back from the dead.” she said.

 

Rhodes tried not to put his forehead through the table, “Yeah, we get that. Why?”

 

Rita shrugged, “To bring back a loved one? To build an army of untraceable soldiers? To defy God? Take your pick, there are a million reasons, all of them profitable.” she said, “Personally I just wanted to see if it could be done.”

 

That made sense. There were a lot of practical applications for bringing back the dead, and all of them worth money to anyone who wanted to shell out. But they needed more than that, “Tell us about the witch you were working with, Agatha Harkness. You're all scientists, why drag mysticism into it?”

 

Rita took a deep breath, “When we finally brought a human back to life, we thought that would be that. It would get up and start walking just as it always had.” she shook her head, “But it didn't. Physically the body was alive, breathing on it's own, heart pumping blood, even brain activity, but there was no . . . there was just nothing.” she said, looking a little helpless, “At first we thought it was like the brain reset itself, and was just a blank slate. But no, nothing we tried worked. Brain scans showed it felt pain, but it didn't even flinch, no matter what kind of pain you inflicted. It could feel, it got hungry, what have you, but it never reacted, even when it should have. We tried everything, but it was like an empty shell. It just laid there until it died of thirst of starvation or fucking bed sores.”

 

Rhodes suppressed a shiver, “So they were basically vegetables?” he asked.

 

“That's the thing, there was brain activity.” Rita went on, looking a little manic now, “Put a photo of a face in front of them an they'd recognize that it was a face, maybe a face they'd seen before even, if you gave them a picture twice. But there would be no emotional response, no physical response. Their brain would tell them that they were hungry or thirsty, but they wouldn't reach for water of food if you put it right in front of them. Fuck, they would barely swallow if you forced it into their mouths.” she said, “They were fully capable of getting up and doing anything they wanted, but they just didn't. It was like they didn't have a- ”

 

“Soul.” Rhodes finished for her, not quite believing that it had come out of his mouth.

 

Rita shivered, “That's what the Ten Rings thought it could be, and some of the Hydra guys. We got out-voted and they brought in that woman.” she said, “I was against it from the start. All that superstitious nonsense, it wouldn't do a damn thing.” Rita got a haunted look in her eyes, “And until yesterday, I was right.”

 

Rhodes watched her for a moment longer; it didn't seem like she was lying, at least about Agatha and what she (had) thought of her. They still needed to know more about the science, but for the moment, they needed to get more information on the witch, “What can you tell us about Ms. Harkness?”

 

Rita shrugged, “What's there to tell? Some Hydra goons brought in the old biddy and we were told to take her seriously. She had us string that crap everywhere and paint the walls and wear those stupid pouches and put those symbols on our hands. I thought it was all ridiculous until everyone around me dropped dead.” she glanced at Clint, “Thanks, by the way.”

 

Clint raised an inquisitive brow at her and she lifted her injured hand, “Your arrow distorted the marks on my hand. If it weren't for you, I'd be as dead as my colleagues.”

 

Clint hummed and gave her a nod, “You're welcome.” he said, “It's not every day that I get thanked for shooting someone.”

 

That earned him a chuckle. Rhodes suspected that she didn't have much else to tell them about Agatha, but he ventured prompting her again.

 

“I don't know much about her.” Rita admitted, “I only saw her from a distance. Weird shit always seemed to happen around her. She was supposed to have guards on her at all times, but she seemed to have free reign anyway. She wasn't brought in with the cat, but it showed up one day. Once, there was a fire in the labs, and a bunch of people got hurt. She was standing in the middle of them, but she wasn't even singed.”

 

“What about her history? Do you know where she came from?” Rhodes asked.

 

Rita shook her head, “No, not at all. I never asked. There might be some records in the computer systems back in the base, but I never looked at them.”

 

Rhodes sighed, “Thank you. We'll make sure you get a fair trial.” he said, standing up and leaving the room, Clint on his heels. He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

 

“Well that was informative.” Clint said, stretching, “Want me to pass it along to Cap?”

 

“Yeah.” Rhodes said, taking his hand away from his face, “I'll call Tony and ask him if he can dig up anything in the records about Harkness.”

 

Clint nodded and took a step down the hall, then stopped and turned back to him, “You okay?” he asked.

 

Rhodes pressed his lips together, “Yeah I'll be okay.” he forced out, “I'll just go call up Tony now.” he turned down the hall to go find a quiet corner to make a call. This wasn't going to affect him as much as it might affect someone else.

 

He was used to stubborn, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!


	16. Decisions Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this took forever.
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long, but I've been so busy with real life and everything that I didn't have time to write at all. Plus, this file got corrupted TWICE before I figured out how to fix it. Anyway, here you go, at long last.

Natasha shifted her weight as she stood at Steve's side. He was sitting across from Harkness once again; in truth, they were a little stunted about what to do with the elderly woman. She was fully cooperating, but they were lost with what she was telling them. Natasha hadn't managed to track down anyone who could give them a second opinion on this magic stuff (S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't exactly taken anyone who claimed to use 'magic' seriously, a mistake they were paying for now).

 

Harkness sat benignly in her seat, stroking her enormous black cat that was lounging across her lap. Natasha liked cats, but this one somehow unnerved her. Or maybe it was just the woman it was associated with.

 

“What were you and Wanda talking about?” Steve asked, apparently deciding not to play around with pleasantries. He must have been very stressed by the events of the morning.

 

“We've agreed that I'm going to teach her how to control her powers.” Harkness answered easily, “You can ask her, she'll tell you the same thing.”

 

“That's not happening.” Steve said automatically, “You're going nowhere near her.”

 

“And why is that?” Harkness asked, raising a white brow, “I've been nothing but cooperative, I've harmed none of you, and you really have nothing to hold me with.”

 

“You killed all of those men.” Steve countered, but Natasha could see that the argument was faulty at best. Apparently Harkness knew too.

 

“Technically, the little Maximoff girl killed them, if you recall. Furthermore, you have no proof, the coroner's report will simply read that they all died of heart failure.” Harkness said, “I'm a victim here. They kidnapped me. Any plotting to kill my captors was done under self preservation and duress. I have a considerable case against any charges you might bring against me.”

 

Natasha glanced down at Steve, gauging his reaction. As much as it rankled, Harkness had a point. They couldn't legally pin anything on her, as there was no physical evidence and she had cause to kill in self defence. Still, they couldn't simply release her, she was too dangerous. They were backed into a corner.

 

Harkness leaned forward, “I know that you won't simply set me free, I'm not an idiot. Instead, I offer myself up as a willing captive, under your watchful eye for however long you see fit. In exchange, I'll train the girl to use her powers more effectively. That seems more than fair to me.”

 

Steve looked back at Natasha, a silent plea for some kind of direction. Natasha gave him a subtle shrug; she had no idea what to do about this situation. It sounded like a good idea, but they were understandably wary of trusting a plan that someone else had set up.

 

“You understand that we can't just agree to this outright?” Steve said, “It's too risky.”

 

Harkness nodded, “I'm aware, but I assure you, my only thought is to help the girl.”

 

Natasha narrowed her eyes, “How can we trust you?”

 

Harkness gave her a kind, but withering smile, “You can't. Not yet. You just have to take me on my word.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey Honeybear, miss me already?”

 

Rhodes sighed and shook his head with a smile, “Tony.” he warned.

 

“Aw don't be that way Brown Sugar, what's up?” Tony asked, a little tinny through the phone receiver, “I've barely been gone a day.”

 

Rhodes smiled to himself a little; for all the stress Tony had brought to his life, he was equally grateful to have the man as a friend, “I was wondering how far you'd gotten with the tech we pulled. Our scientist guest said that there might be more info about Harkness in their computers.”

 

“Hm, makes sense.” Tony said distractedly, “They must have found out about her somehow, and that kind of thing would show up in their data. I'll run a search for it, see what pops up, just as soon as I can get past their firewalls.”

 

“You're still working on that?” Rhodes raised an eyebrow, “I thought for sure you'd be past that by now.”

 

“I _would_ ,” Tony huffed, indignant, “If the damn thing wasn't set up to blow itself to pieces the second anyone tried to wiggle around through any of the usual back channels. The entire network is running a subprogram that scans for any trace of being hacked. When it finds it, it immediately releases a virus that not only eats any data within the network, but gets into the hacker's network and starts going to town. It's pretty ingenious.”

 

Rhodes knew that tone of voice; pleased with a side of smug, so he waited for Tony to keep going, “It's actually a subprogram that I invented. They must have gotten their hands on a copy of it.”

 

“Didn't they also have your security system? Shouldn't you be more worried that they're using your tech?” Rhodes asked.

 

“Nah, this stuff is all commercially available, strictly above-board. In fact, I can probably find the exact version of the software in Stark Industries logs, get a duplicate, and connect to the system by making it think I'm part of the system. It would take five minutes, tops.”

 

“Sounds simple.” Rhodes said, but something was off about that, “If it would be that fast, why haven't you done it.”

 

There was a long pause over the phone as Tony weighed the words he was about to say, “I have to call Pepper to get the number.” he mumbled.

 

Ah, _there_ it was, “Want me to call her?” Rhodes asked. He liked Pepper, he really did, she was one of the best things to happen to Tony aside from Iron Man, but he'd been Tony's friend for longer than he had known her, so he was more inclined to be on Tony's side. From what he understood, the break-up had been her doing, but Tony didn't blame her; that didn't mean Rhodes wasn't allowed to be salty about it. He liked Pepper, but Tony was his best friend, and it was his duty as best friend to be bitter at the ex.

 

“Good _God_ no. That is the _worst_ idea, can you imagine? No, I'll do it. I'm just . . . working myself up to it.” Tony said. Rhodes could almost _see_ the nervous shuffle he did when he admitted to something he'd rather not.

 

“Alright, if you're sure.” Rhodes said, “Want me to stay on the phone with you until you get up the balls to call her?”

 

“Ha. Ha. You think you're so funny don't you? And no, I don't need you to hold my hand like I'm a schoolboy with his first crush.” Tony snapped, but added after a pause, “If _you_ want to stay and talk, I won't stop you.”

 

In other words (translated from Tony-speak), _Yes please, talk to me and acknowledge my need for emotional support_. Rhodes smiled and shook his head, overcome with fondness. He didn't think he'd ever truly wrap his head around Tony's need to seem above the rest of the mere mortals he was surrounded by, but he definitely blamed Howard Stark for it (as he did for most of Tony's more self-destructive personality quirks).

 

“I've got time.” Rhodes said, sitting down in a chair and getting himself comfortable, “We can chat for a while.”

 

Tony sniffed condescendingly, “Well, I guess I can spare the oxygen.” he said, “So how goes the interrogation?”

 

Rhodes groaned, “Terrible. We're so out of our depth we're just chasing our tails. I don't even want to talk about it. Tell me what you're doing.”

 

A cheap trick; Tony was a narcissist (in the kindest terms possible) and always jumped at the chance to talk about himself. His need for constant approval was another thing Rhodes would like to smack Howard Stark for, but right now he really didn't want to think about the two women they were holding in incarceration. He was sick and tired of being in the thick of it, he just wanted to hear his best friend talk for a while.

 

If there was one thing Tony was good at other than building the future, it was talking.

 

“Why _Sugar Crisp_ , if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to turn this into a naughty phone call. Should I tell you want kind of undies I'm wearing? Hint; I'm not wearing any.” Tony purred.

 

Rhodes rolled his eyes, “Asshole. And did you just call me _cereal_? I thought a genius would have more creativity.”

 

“Normally I would agree with you, but there's this chunk of code that's being a huge bitch right now. I keep giving it a command, but it's all like, 'so you wanted me to do _this_ right?' while I keep inputting the command like, 'no, do _this_ dammit'. So it works for like two seconds like 'oh, _this_ thing, right' and then it goes right back to, 'but you really meant _this_ thing, right?' Stop laughing at me, this is frustrating.”

 

Rhodes tried ineffectually to stifle his giggles behind his hand, “Aw Tony, never change.” he said.

 

“Fuck you.” Tony snapped, but there was no salt in his tone at all, only a matching chuckle.

 

They stayed on the phone for a good hour, Tony chattering away in his usual style; a mixture of techno-jargon, swearing in at least two or three different languages, and half-formed anecdotes about life and the universe. Rhodes could have listened for hours, just letting his friend talk, uninterrupted, for as long as he needed to. There were very few people Tony was so candid with, and an even smaller number that could stand to hear him talk for so long. Rhodes found that, over time, he'd come to enjoy just listening to Tony; in the beginning, as with most things Tony, all the talking had grated on him a little. Now, after having known him for so long, he understood Tony a little more and came to appreciate it. He interjected now and then with a comment or story of his own, happy to talk to his best friend.

 

As they approached an hour and a half of talking to one another, Tony sighed, “I should really call Pepper, it's getting late.”

 

“Yes, you should.” Rhodes said, “But offer still stands. It's only been, what? A week? You're allowed to feel hurt still.”

 

“No no, I got it.” Tony said, sighing again, “Better to do it now. Rip off the band-aid.”

 

“Alright.” Rhodes said, “You can call me back if you feel like it.”

 

“Thanks Rhodey. For- for everything.” Tony said, “I . . . I really mean it.”

 

There's so much _meaning_ behind that that Rhodes has to take a deep breath, “Sure thing Tony.” he said, smiling despite the fact that Tony couldn't see him, “Anytime. You know that.”

 

A silence stretches out between them until it snaps, “I'm gonna call Pepper. Talk later buddy.”

 

“Yeah, see ya.” Rhodes said, and waits for Tony to hang up. There's a small pause where Tony waits for _him_ to hang up, then the click of the call disconnecting.

 

Rhodes smiled and put his phone away, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

 

Back to work.

 

* * *

 

Wanda was expecting it to come, but she still flinched a little when they got the call to come to one of the conference rooms. The nurse that was attending to Pietro gave her a look of sympathy, but said nothing. Pietro stopped flirting with her and was at his sister's side in an instant, ready to whisk her away if she gave the slightest indication of wanting to.

 

For a moment, Wanda thought that it might not be so bad, to run away and not have to deal with any of this ever again. She and Pietro could survive on their own, they'd been doing so long before they got their powers. But when she opened her eyes, she saw Vision, standing a ways away, like he had been for the last few hours, watching her and regarding her with a deep fascination that made something in her chest warm. They couldn't leave; why should they? They had a place to belong here. They could help the world with their powers.

 

Wanda turned and smiled at her brother. He still looked a bit grave, but he smiled back. He still looked ridiculous with no hair or eyebrows (or eyelashes), but she was grateful to have him back with her that she hardly cared to notice.

 

They joined hands and made their way to the conference room they had been summoned to, Vision following close behind them. Even before she reached the room, she could feel the roiling tension in the air, radiating off of everyone and permeating the atmosphere so much that she could feel her own shoulders lock up in reaction. She shook it off and opened the door, striding in and sitting down at the table where there were still chairs left. The rest of the team watched them as they entered, Steve at the head of the table, the picture of a caring leader caught in a bad situation.

 

“I'm sorry.” Wanda said before anyone could say anything, “I wanted to speak to Agatha on my own, but I did not consider that I would worry anyone. I was reckless and selfish. I'm sorry.”

 

Her words seemed to startle the tension out of the room; Steve blinked once and gave her an odd look, “Apology accepted. But please, don't do it again.” he sounded a little strained, probably from the stress of the last few days.

 

“You were very stupid.” Natasha said, looking her directly in the eye, “You could have been killed or hurt and none of us knew where you were.”

 

Wanda tried to keep her gaze, but folded under the intense stare and looked down at her lap, feeling like a naughty child. Pietro squeezed her hand, but he didn't look up to challenge Natasha either.

 

“We can talk about punishment later.” Steve said, “Right now we need to talk about what to do with Ms. Harkness.”

 

 _That_ made Wanda look up; were they considering letting Agatha teach her? She tried not to get her hopes up, though her heart started to pick up a little.

 

“She's way too dangerous.” Rhodes said, “We can't trust her as far as we could throw her, and some of us could throw her pretty far.”

 

“She's already shown herself to be morally flexible.” Natasha said, “Whatever she wants to call it, all of those people are dead because of her.”

 

“Well, they did kidnap her.” Clint countered, “Better people have done worse for less.”

 

“She has been fully cooperative since her arrival.” Vision said, “And even when Wanda was alone with her, she did nothing to harm her. She even helped Black Widow during the first mission into the compound.”

 

“All very good points, thank you.” Steve said, “But we have to consider what it would mean for Wanda if we made a decision one way or another.”

 

At this, Wanda perked up; they were taking her opinion into account? She had figured that hey might simply go over her head with the decision, her being so much younger than them, and not take her seriously. She pushed aside her elation for now though, she needed to focus.

 

“Agatha has shown no indication of lying.” she said, thankful when her voice came out even and calm, “I've never once felt her lie or have any kind of malicious intent.”

 

“You're sure you haven't felt anything wrong about her?” Steve asked, “We're not putting you in danger if there's the slightest chance that this could go sideways. Are you absolutely sure that Agatha Harkness means you no harm?”

 

 _I can take care of myself_ , was on the tip of her tongue, but she stamped down on her indignation. The protective instincts that came off of Steve, and more potently, Natasha, were enough to reassure her that this did not come from a mistrust in her abilities. They simply wanted to keep her safe.

 

“I'm certain that Agatha means for no harm to come to me.” Wanda said, confident in her own words. Not once had she felt Agatha mean anything other than what she said. She wanted to teach her to use her powers, and that was all.

 

Steve stared across the table at her, and this time Wanda was able to meet his eye. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Alright.” he said finally, “We trust you Wanda, but that doesn't mean we're not going to put a few fail safes up.”

 

“A guard on her at all times.” Natasha said at once, “Constant surveillance.”

 

“You two are never alone together. One of us is always there with you.” Rhodes chipped in.

 

“A full investigation into her.” Clint said, “Anything fishy comes up and she's gone.”

 

So they talked for a few hours, coming up with stipulations and restrictions for interacting with the mysterious woman. Wanda often pitched in, and she felt that her ideas were listened to. It was a nice change from what she was used to, being over looked as a child, or a homeless gypsy wandering the streets. Here, her opinion mattered, she was taken seriously, and people cared about her, and her brother. They didn't want anything from her, or to use her for anything, they just wanted to make sure she was okay.

 

All at once Wanda felt the efforts of her team over the last few months, their drive to keep her from being swallowed by her own despair. She was momentarily overcome by the feeling of being loved, something that had only ever happened to her when her brother did something particularly kind for her, or when she recalled her earliest memories of her parents. These people, the Avengers, cared about her the way a family would care for each other.

 

She never wanted to leave.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw Wanda, sweet child~ Plus some brotp action with Tony and Rhodey.


	17. Not a Happy Ending Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy so I like, died there for a while, didn't I? Anyway, it's finally summer so I can work on this again. I actually was really stuck on this for a while, but I've managed to figure out where I'm headed. Hope to see you guys at the finish line!

True to her word, Agatha seemed to be only interested in helping Wanda refine her powers. In the few weeks that she'd been under their capture, Agatha hadn't once tried to escape or made any threatening movements toward anyone. Her primary focus seemed to be helping Wanda, which she was doing in spades. In the short time that Agatha had been teaching her, Wanda was now leaps and bounds more in control than she had been. Her improvement in such a short amount of time was staggering.

 

Pietro too had been improving at an accelerated rate; since returning to life, his body had regained the muscle mass that it had lost. After some deliberation, the team had decided to bring Pietro onto the Avengers roster with his sister. He was now training with the rest of them under the name 'Quicksilver', which suited him well, since his hair had grown back a shocking pure white.

 

Feelings about Agatha hadn't exactly changed though, and the team took turns watching her closely, making sure she didn't try anything. She was never not on camera, and when she was with Wanda, there was always someone else in the room with them, just to make sure. Clint was the usual candidate for this task.

 

Clint had originally planned to leave as soon as the rest of the Avengers headed back to their new base, but he'd stuck around for some inexplicable reason. The others hadn't complained, and even joked about him coming back to the team, which Clint just laughed off awkwardly.

 

Clint sighed for what seemed like the millionth time in a week, turning the faucet on. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and stopped, watching his own tired face stare back at him. What the hell was he doing, still hanging around with the Avengers? They didn't need him, hell they barely tolerated him. At least it felt like it sometimes. He was always getting in the way; no one said he was, but he knew that he wasn't welcome here. And yet he stayed, clinging to the past like a greasy man-child refusing to leave his mother's basement and live in the real world.

 

Clint groaned and splashed his face with cool water. He wanted to stop, to get away and stop fooling himself, but every time he tried to bring it up to the others, Steve would clap him on the back and thank him for sticking around for so long, or Rhodes would come up to him and ask him why the hell they all giggled at 'language' or some other such inside joke, or Natasha would smile at him in that way of hers that just leaked _ gratitude _ (if you knew what you were looking at), or he would just be spending time with all of them and it would feel so _ natural _ that he'd forget that he didn't belong here. It would only be later, when he was alone, lost in his own head, that the feeling would return. The feeling that he was useless here, that the others were better off without him. What was he anyway? A man with a weapon that had been obsolete since the invention of firearms, that was what he was.

 

Clint felt a wash of illness rush up from the pit of his stomach. He breathed heavily for a few moments before it overwhelmed him and he retched into the sink. There wasn't much more than a few strings of yellowish bile; had he eaten today? He grabbed for a cup and rinsed his mouth out. He filled the cup again and gulped the cool water down. He switched off the tap and left the bathroom. Natasha was expecting him to be there with her for Pietro's psych-eval, which the kid had been putting off. For a speedster, he was very good at procrastinating.

 

* * *

  
  


Wanda paced nervously outside the psych-eval room, not caring that Natasha was watching her. She hated to be away from her brother, even for short amounts of time. Logically she knew that nothing would happen to him, that they were safe within the Avengers compound and that Hawkeye was with her brother, but she couldn't shake the nervousness she felt any time they were separate from one another.

 

She could feel Natasha's eyes on her back, following her as she paced. She didn't care, not really, but it was starting to get on her nerves. She was determined not to give in though; if the older woman had something she wanted to say, she could say it.

 

“Sit down, Wanda. Everything is fine.” Natasha said after a few more minutes, “You're going to wear yourself out.”

 

“I am fine.” Wanda said. The fact that her feet were beginning to hurt was inconsequential.

 

Natasha sighed; Wanda ignored her. She continued her pacing until the door opened and Pietro stepped out. Immediately she ran to him, wrapping him in her arms. The rush of relief she felt feeling her brother's warm, _ alive _ body almost gave her a headrush. Pietro hugged her back tightly and smiled down at her.

 

“Wanda? I'd like to speak to you as well.” Dr. Rosenfarb called, snapping the siblings out of their reunion. Wanda felt a quick stab of confusion before it was replaced by worry. She glanced back at Natasha.

 

“I can come in with you, but not your brother.” Natasha said, “I'll only be there for protection.”

 

“It won't take very long, Ms. Maximoff.” Dr. Rosenfarb assured her, “I just a have a couple questions I'd like to ask.”

 

Pietro patted her back, “It will be okay.” he said, speaking in Sokovian, “I will come for you if anything happens.”

 

Wanda nodded and finally let go of her brother. She tried to ignore the calculating look the doctor gave her, but it burned her a little. Who did this woman think she was, judging her and her brother like that? Natasha followed her into the room, but stayed by the door as the Doctor led her deeper into the office.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb sat down behind a modestly sized desk and shuffled some papers around. She opened up a notebook and set her pen down next to it, “Do you mind if I record our talk?” she asked, smiling pleasantly at Wanda.

 

Wanda shook her head, sitting down in the small but not uncomfortable chair on the other side of the desk. She wondered if this was someone's office that they were borrowing, or if Dr. Rosenfarb had had this set up for her visit.

 

The doctor nodded and reached over to flick on the recording device that sat precisely lined up with the upper corner of her desk. She sat back in her chair and smiled blandly at Wanda, “Why don't we start with something simple? How have you been since your brother returned?”

 

Wanda tilted her head a little, “What an odd question.” she replied. Dr. Rosenfarb raised a thin brow, so she elaborated, “I've been well since my brother returned. Why shouldn't I be?”

 

Dr. Rosenfarb smiled, “I'm sure you've been much happier, seeing your brother up and healthy after such a long time.” she said (they hadn't told her that Pietro had returned from the dead, only that he'd woken up from a coma that they thought he would never recover from), “But I'm curious to know if there's anything you feel anxious about. Have you been feeling any stresses lately?”

 

Wanda shrugged at that. Dr. Rosenfarb sighed, “Is there any point in the day that you feel anxious?” she tried again.

 

Wanda glanced back at the door, where her brother was waiting on the other side. When she looked back at the doctor, she was giving her a knowing look. Wanda flushed a little; it would be pointless to deny it, she supposed, “When I'm away from my brother.” she said quietly.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb made a quick note in her book, “Can you please elaborate for me? I'd like to understand.” she said, a kind smile on her face.

 

Wanda shifted in her chair, “When we are apart, I get nervous that something will happen to my brother, that he won't return to me.” she said, “I get so upset sometimes that I feel sick. We sleep in the same room, but sometimes even that is not enough, and we sleep in the same bed.”

 

Dr. Rosenfarb nodded, writing a few more things down, “Does Pietro seem to share your anxiety, that you can tell?”

 

Wanda nodded, “I think so.” she said.

 

The older woman laid her hands on her desk and steepled her fingers together, regarding her. She smiled softly at Wanda and stood, “Why don't we call your brother in so we can all talk?” she suggested.

 

Once Pietro was settled in next to her (with Clint and Natasha waiting by the door for them), Dr. Rosenfarb continued, “I've been briefed on your history, what is available anyway, and I feel confident diagnosing you both with a case of Separation Anxiety.”

 

“Separation Anxiety?” Pietro repeated, the complex English awkward on his tongue.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb nodded, “It's a common type anxiety in young children, and is even considered a milestone in early cognitive development. Later in life, however, it can hinder healthy relationships. It's usually more common with parent-child relationships, but twins are known to be at risk for it. What is generally means is that the individual becomes extremely attached to an important figure in their life, to the point of refusing to be without them for extended periods of time. They can experience paranoia about the other's safety, distress at being separate from the other, refusal to leave the other, even to sleep. It can even cause panic attacks if severe enough.”

 

“And you think we have this?” Pietro asked, sounding a little defensive.

 

“It's entirely possible.” Dr. Rosenfarb said, “After the kind of trauma you experienced, it wouldn't be that far fetched. The two of you have relied on only one another since you were children, and to have nearly lost each other the way you did, it could have triggered a deeper dependence on your relationship.”

 

Dr. Rosenfarb leaned forward, face serious, “I want to stress that this kind of anxiety can be very damaging, to your lives as individuals and to your relationship with each other.” she said.

 

Wanda clenched her hands on her lap; the doctor had a point. For the longest time, it had only been herself and Pietro against the world, and for a while, she had lost that. Her one anchor in the roiling sea had been cut, and she had been lost for months. Now that she had her brother back, she didn't want to let him go, ever again. To know that her concerns could be hurting them made her shiver, thinking back to the Darkness that had nearly consumed her after Pietro's death.

 

“What can we do?” Wanda asked, forcing her voice to be steady. She could feel Pietro's indignation roll off of him.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb sighed, “Adult Separation Anxiety Disorder is a fairly new concept I'm afraid, so there are still relatively few concrete treatments for it.” she said, pulling her glasses from her face and inspecting them. She pulled out a tissue and wiped the lenses before replacing the delicate wire and plastic back on her concave nose. She gave them a kind smile, “However, there are some coping techniques we can try and I can recommend trying a few things to help give the two of you a sense of yourselves outside of the other. For now, why don't you two have a talk and come and see me at a later time? I know this can be a little overwhelming to think about.”

 

Wanda nodded and stood. Immediately her brother was with her, in step with her as they walked to the door. Until Ultron, she had never known what it was like to step and not have his steps align with hers, and when he was gone, she felt as though she had been missing a limb. She had thought, hoped maybe, that once her brother was back, that things would go back to the way that they were. It had been her hope, but as the weeks went on, she could feel herself deteriorating again, at least when her brother wasn't with her. It wasn't quite the return of the Darkness, but when she wasn't sure of her brother's location, she could feel a dread grip her heart. Even knowing where he was wasn't enough to assuage her fears most times. She needed to see him, feel his warm body next to hers, hear his heartbeat under her ear. At first it had seemed normal to take comfort in each other’s physicality, to know that Pietro was back among the living and not going anywhere anytime soon.

 

She hadn't thought that it could be a bad thing.

 

* * *

 

  
  


In the weeks since the others had returned to the Avengers compound, Tony hadn't been back to New York. He still worked for his company, obviously－inventions didn't grow on trees－but he studiously avoided returning to New York and his lonely tower. At first he told himself that he needed to focus on figuring out what the hell was going on with the Hydra/A.I.M./Ten Rings business they'd stumbled into, and after that had hit a dead end, he told himself it was to give Pepper time to adjust. Now he was all out of excuses and fucks to give; he _ liked _ being Iron Man, and he liked his new circle of friends, and for some unfathomable reason, they seemed to like him, personality particularities and all.

 

So he had stayed with the Avengers, and he was done apologizing for it. He was doing _ good _ as Iron Man, and he felt better than he had in years. The urge to drink was less, he remembered to eat more,  and his brain was a flurry of activity; the _ good _ kind of activity, the kind that led to new breakthroughs in technology that would have otherwise baffled the world for decades to come (the bad kind was the kind that brought him back to caves and wormholes in the sky and the gripping panic in his chest like the arc reactor was gone and he _ still _ woke up gasping some nights, searching for the reactor and panicking when he couldn't find it). Tony felt better than he had in his entire life, now that he had dedicated his life to helping people.

 

It had been hard, letting Pepper go, or rather, letting the _ idea _ of Pepper go. The idea that he could have a shred of normalcy and be content with that. But the two of them were on the mend, at least, and even talked on the phone now and again; mostly for work, but there was often a moment or two where they would drift into something else (there would always be moments, Tony guessed).

 

“So anything new on the search?” Pepper asked, voice carefully controlled. She cared, Tony knew she did, but he also knew that she still worried. It was a thin, treacherous, and bizarre line that they walked.

 

“Nope. We've hit a dead end.” Tony mumbled around a screwdriver, trying to see where he was going wrong with his new boot, “Whoever was calling the shots on that either cleared out the minute we came down on their heads, or is very good at covering their tracks. We have no idea who's on the other end of this.”

 

“Sounds frustrating.” Pepper hummed. Tony could hear the scratch of her custom made, red and white fountain pen on the stacks of paperwork she was sure to be doing (she always said that fountain pens were easier on her wrist, but he figured that she just preferred the elegant look of them).

 

Tony spat the screwdriver onto his workbench and sighed, “Damn right it is, but I'll be fucked if I know what the hell to do next. I've chased every lead we had and turned up jack-shit.”

 

Pepper chuckled, “Don't let Steve hear you talking like that.” she said ('language' had become a long running joke between all of them. Steve played along sometimes by using ridiculous euphemisms like 'golly' and 'shucks', just to piss everyone off).

 

“If you ever heard him after he stubbed his toe, you'd eat those words.” Tony laughed, “I felt like I needed to go to church after that, and I hate church.”

 

“Have you ever even been to church?” Pepper asked.

 

“Used to with my mother, but I had to stop. The holy water kept burning me.” Tony said, just to hear that cute little snort Pepper did when something was unexpectedly funny.

 

She didn't disappoint, “Tony, oh my God!” she laughed.

 

Tony smiled, feeling his chest warm; they could do this, they could be friends, “So, have you finished moving into your new place yet?”

 

“Hm, not yet. Most of my things are there, but there's still a lot in the tower. Half of it is just figuring what stuff is mine or yours.”

 

And just like that, Tony felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Pepper must have felt it too because she immediately stopped. The silence stretched between them, ringing in Tony's ears. He zeroed in on the kinked wire that was causing all the fuss with his boot and set about fixing it, trying not to grind his teeth together.

 

“Tony . . .” Pepper murmured, “For what it's worth, I'm glad we were together, even if it wasn't going to last.”

 

Tony paused, “Really?” he asked.

 

“Yeah. For one thing, now we _ know _ , and don't have to wonder anymore. And it was nice, being with you, for the most part.” Pepper said.

 

“For the most part?” Tony questioned, feeling something hot crawl up his spine.

 

“Mm, I'm not going to lie to you and say it was all daisies and sunshine, but the good parts were good.” Pepper said, “It was nice for what it was, even if it was never going to work in the long run.”

 

“Because of Iron Man.” it wasn't a question.

 

“Because of a lot of things, Tony. I'm just as at fault for this mess as you are.” Pepper soothed, “I'm pushy and I work too much, which isn't something you needed in a relationship, at least not the way I handled it.”

 

“It wasn't you fault.” Tony defended.

 

“And it wasn't yours either.” Pepper cut him off before he could get into a spiral of self-deprecation, “We were in it together, that's how adult relationships work, Tony.”

 

“Ugh, who decided being an adult was a thing?” Tony said, desperate to break the tension, “Seriously, this whole 'adult' thing is a bust. We should stop.” he grinned a little as he managed to get Pepper to laugh.

 

“Oh Tony, please don't change.” she said.

 

“Really?” Tony raised an eyebrow, “I don't need to change? You've met me right?” he said. He'd meant for it to come out joking, but he couldn't get his voice to steady. He hated the note of desperation in his voice.

 

Pepper hummed, “I have Tony, and I mean it. Don’t ever change. Not for anyone.”

 

And just like that, the tension drained out of Tony’s shoulders and he could breathe again, “A lot of people would disagree with you, you know.” he said, but it didn’t sound so ragged this time.

 

“Those people are idiots.” Pepper said dismissively, scratching away at her paperwork again, “Seriously Tony, never settle for anyone who wants to change you.”

 

“That’s a very limited dating pool, you know.” Tony countered, picking up his dropped screwdriver and tightening a few things that needed tightening.

 

“Then you should have no trouble finding someone.” Pepper hummed, amused.

 

Something in her tone made Tony flush, “What’s that supposed to mean?” he felt himself asking before he could stop himself.

 

“Oh  _ Tony _ .” Pepper said, and Tony felt a bit like a rabbit unexpectedly caught in a trap, “You can’t think I didn’t notice. Even when we were together it was kind of obvious. Not that I ever thought you would do anything while we were dating. I know you’re not like that.”

 

“ _ What _ are you talking about?” Tony asked, refusing to give in and admit it.

 

Pepper laughed, amused, “Nothing I suppose, if you’re going to be like that. Say hello to Steve for me, okay? And the rest of the team.”

 

“Will do.” Tony said, forcing himself not to analyse why Pepper singled Steve out of the rest.

 

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before ultimately saying goodnight. Tony glanced down at the repulsor boot he’d been working on, at the gleaming metal and perfect wires, everything exactly as it should be. Tony put his screwdriver down and set about tidying up his work table (messy was fine when you were making it, but once the work was done, he liked a clean slate). Once he was finished putting things back where they were meant to go, he sat down on his bench and out his face in his hands.

 

“Fuck.” he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Clint, I really do. He deserved better in the MCU.
> 
> Almost every fic I've read that has Pietro coming back to life has it end there with a happy ending, but I wanted to explore what would happen after, with a darker twist. Adult Separation Anxiety is a thing, but it hasn't been around for very long as a thing, so I'm flying a bit blind here. I'll either have to do some research or just fudge the details.
> 
> The Pepperony!bro relationship has a special place in my heart that I will keep forever.
> 
> *Chava Rosenfarb was a writer that I was reading for class at the time I was writing a chunk of this, so that's where the name comes from. Anyone who guesses what she wrote gets a minor character named after them.


	18. Watchful Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I recently switched my writing platform from Open Office to Google Docs, and I have to say, it's been one of the best decisions I've made all year. I also downloaded the app on my phone and iPad and now I can write anywhere. It's great when I'm on my night shift and I'm fighting to stay awake. So hopefully I'll be able to get these chapters out faster with all the extra time and places I can write.

“So, how did it go at the psych-eval?” Sam asked as Natasha and Clint walked into the entertainment room. Clint gave a long sigh and Natasha headed straight for the mini-fridge where she kept her little yogurt cups that no one else was allowed to take on pain of losing an extremity, “That bad huh?”

 

“It’s going to take some work.” Natasha said, fishing around in the drawers for a spoon, “We’re all going to have to be supportive. Where are all the little spoons?”

 

“Check the sink.” Clint said, squeezing past her to get to the minibar, “And yeah, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

 

Sam sighed, “I figured it wouldn't be easy.” he said, turning back to his video game, “But then again, all of us could probably do with a session on the couch.”

 

Clint snorted, flopping down on the couch next to Sam with a beer, “Could you imagine trying to get Tony to sit down for a therapy session? Just try to picture that for a second, I dare you.”

 

Sam thought for a second and shuddered, “Never mind.”

 

Natasha flopped down on his other side, yogurt in one hand and a knife in the other, “No, you have a point, we could all do with some venting.”

 

Clint raised an eyebrow, “Really? You’d sit down and talk to a stranger about feelings? Your feelings?” he asked.

 

Natasha shrugged; Clint kept staring at her, “Who are you and what have you done with Nat? Are you sure you’re the same person who once stabbed a guy with a file folder for asking how your day was?”

 

“With a  _ file folder _ ? How the fuck－?”

 

Natasha flicked a speck of yogurt at Clint (which, her being Black Widow, landed right in his eye), “Asshole. I’ve grown as a person since then.”

 

Clint scrubbed at his eye, “Bitch that hurt. I still can’t believe you of all people are willing to sit and share your most intimate secrets.”

 

“It’s not always like that,” Sam said, “A lot of the time you just tell them about how you’re feeling. You don’t have to tell them why.”

 

Clint said nothing and took a long pull from his beer. Sam glanced at the clock, “Dude, it’s barely noon. Little early for beer isn’t it?”

 

Clint shrugged, “Depends on the kind of day you’re having,” he said.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked over at Natasha; she was looking straight ahead with a neutral expression, but Sam could see in the tenseness of her shoulders that she was upset about something. He glanced back at Clint, but the other man was just staring ahead, drinking from his beer.

 

Sam picked up the extra controller and held it out to Clint, “Wanna play?” he asked.

 

Clint set down his beer and took the controller, “Sounds fun. Prepare to get your ass handed to you.”

 

Sam grinned, “Ah, hell naw, you did not just say that!”

 

The two of them launched into the game, trash talking and shoving at each other while Natasha watched and ate her yogurt, occasionally pitching in with her own trash talk (aimed at either or both, to keep things fair). The whole time, Clint’s beer sat on the coffee table, only getting occasionally sipped at; Sam glanced over at Natasha once or twice, and took note of the way she didn’t seem tense anymore.

 

* * *

 

Wanda sat on her bed across from her brother. She called it ‘her’ bed because it was in ‘her’ room, but really, she and her brother spent an equal amount of time in it, even though Pietro had been given his own room, just to the left of hers, with an adjoining door. It had a bed, and a dresser, and all the furniture a room usually came with (as much as they knew about that kind of thing), but all of Pietro’s worldly possessions (few of those that there were) ended up in ‘her’ room, as did her brother himself. Even then, they sort of swapped around on ‘his’ things and ‘her’ things. Growing up on the streets, they had had limited ability to keep ‘things’, so they economized and often shared whatever they needed to. Clothing (when it managed to fit them both reasonably well), books, combs and hairbrushes, soap, food, and whatever else they needed to live on the streets (they did manage to keep separate toothbrushes, thankfully). It was hard for them to break the habit, now that they had everything that Tony Stark’s money could buy for them (he had handed Pietro a similar bank account that he had given Wanda, all those months ago, though he hardly needed to).

 

So, now they were facing the dilemma they had never considered before, moving ‘his’ things into ‘his’ bedroom, so they could have their separate spaces. Dr. Rosenfarb had suggested that they try and create spaces that were just for themselves, separate from the other. The most logical place to start was their bedrooms; after all, they were nearly adults, and adults had their own rooms.

 

So they were sitting across from each other, wondering where to start. Where did they start cutting out the lines where ‘Wanda’ should start and where ‘Pietro’ should end?

 

“So,” Pietro said, “I suppose we should start with clothes?” he suggested.

 

Wanda nodded and hopped off the bed. When they were younger, they had swapped clothes without really thinking about it. Pants, shirts, coats, socks, anything really, but as they had gotten older, they had greater difference in their wardrobes. Wanda began to enjoy dresses more, while Pietro shot up several inches in height, making sharing more difficult (though, one night when he had been trying to cheer her up, he had donned one of her larger dresses, and she must admit, he actually managed to pull it off). Still, some articles of clothing passed between them. A hoodie, a scarf, a pair of old sweatpants, things here and there.

 

They spread all of these things out and stood back; Wanda glanced at her brother, unsure of where to start. She reached out and picked up one of the hoodies.

 

Pietro made a noise of protest, “That's my favourite, I wear it all the time.”

 

Wanda nodded and buried her face in the soft fabric, “Smells like you,” she muttered.

 

Pietro blinked, then sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, “This isn't going to work,” he said.

 

Wanda slipped the hoodie on and started picking up the rest, “Maybe we don't have to separate the clothes. Natasha steals clothes from the others all the time.”

 

Pietro grumbled something and helped her pick up the clothes they had laid out, “We’re getting nowhere,” he said, obviously frustrated.

 

Wanda folded a shirt and put it on the bed, “Why don't we separate our other clothes? Put yours away in your room? These we can just let drift between us.” She patted the small pile of neatly folded clothes they had made.

 

Mollified now that they had a plan of action, Pietro quickly gathered his own clothing and put them away in the drawers in his room. A half a second since he started, he was back at his sister’s side, “What next?”

 

Wanda tucked away a strand of hair that had come loose from the rush of wind her brother caused, “All of your bathroom things?” she suggested.

 

Another rush of air; she stalked over to the door to his room. It was so bare, it almost felt cold, even though she knew Stark’s environment systems kept everything at the perfect temperature.

 

It only took five minutes for all of Pietro’s things to migrate to their new home. However, the little suite was still exceptionally empty, “We’ll have to get you some posters or something,” Wanda said.

 

Pietro rolled his eyes, “I could say the same to you, you know.”

 

Wanda looked over her shoulder at her own room. It was true, her own living space was quite bare; she shivered at the reminder that, for all the months she had lived there, she had been in mourning.

 

Pietro sensed her discomfort and was at her side before she could think to call him over. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed, “We’ll be okay,” he assured her, “We’ll figure it out.”

 

Wanda leaned into her brother and prayed to whatever deity that might be listening that that would be true.

 

* * *

 

Natasha was expecting Sam to come to her. She was too smart not to have noticed what had happened that afternoon. She had to give Sam credit for noticing when none of the others seemed to have caught on yet.

 

She waited in the library, one of her favourite spots in the whole compound. Tony, while he didn't really understand the appeal of literature that much (aside from a few favourites) had gone out of his way to create an authentic library experience. Most of the books weren't new, but purchased from thrift stores and old book shops, giving the air that lovely ‘old book’ smell. The room was done up in warm brown wood, with dark red and green accents, which contrasted sharply with the ultra-modern, steel-and-glass construct of the rest of the compound. Overstuffed chairs and sofas were scattered around, arranged in a way so that you could either sit alone with your book, or close to someone if you chose. There was even a fireplace in one corner; electric, but probably for the best, just in case any sort of fire should start amongst all that paper.

 

Tonight, Natasha was sitting near the fireplace, reading the Romanian translation of  _ The Brothers Karamazov _ . She knew the original by heart, but she’d never read it in Romanian, and it was fun to see the changes made with the translation. Normally, she’d sit in a secluded spot close to the windows and enjoy the starlight that being so far from the city afforded. Tonight, however, Sam was going to come to her, and he would need a place to sit, somewhere inviting. Hence, her choice to read by the fireplace on one of the sofas.

 

Sure enough, sometime after dinner (long enough to have a long shower and putter about for a bit, waffling on whether or not to seek her out), Sam came to find her, sitting in a welcoming part of the library, clearly not too engrossed in a novel.

 

“Hey, Nat?” he called softly, so as not to disturb her (as if she couldn't hear him coming, even with his footfalls muffled on the carpet).

 

“Yeah?” She closed her book and turned to him, giving him her full attention.

 

“You notice anything weird with Clint?” he asked, sitting next to her on the sofa.

 

Natasha aether book aside and swivels on the couch to face Sam, “There's something weird with Clint,” she said, straight to the point.

 

“Fucking knew it,” Sam said to himself more than to her, “What can we do?”

 

“Nothing, for now.” Natasha said with a shrug, “We keep a close eye on him. If it gets worse, we intervene, but we don't confront him.”

 

Sam frowned, “Really? Aw you sure that's the best course of action?”

 

Natasha paused a moment, “Clint is my oldest friend, I know him better than he does sometimes.” She glanced away, remembering all those years ago, when he first pulled her out of Red Room’s hold. She hadn’t really trusted him then, or anyone for that matter, so she had watched him, learnt him like he was a target. Picked apart his weaknesses and prepared herself to counter his strengths. Over time, as her walls had broken down and his calming presence seeped into her, she had vowed to only ever use her knowledge to protect his weak spots and bolster his strengths. He was her first friend, the only family she had had in years, and she wasn't about to lose that.

 

Still, Sam had come to her, after having noticed it of his own power. Two sets of eyes were better than one, so she was going to let Sam in, just a little bit. She was going to trust Sam with one of the most precious, most guarded secrets, because he had come to her wanting to help.

 

“Clint is prone to depressive episodes,” Natasha said, not so much as breaking the wall down, but opening a door, which Sam could enter if he wished, “Usually he’s pretty functional. He can go about his day completely normal, with no one being the wiser, and when he’s alone, he wallows,” she explained, “He drinks more, and is quieter, except for the times when he thinks he’s expected to talk and make an ass of himself. Normally he’ll pull himself out of it within the span of a few weeks. It usually occurs after a failure of some kind on his part, imagined or otherwise. You'd never notice it unless you were looking for it, know him as well as I do—”

 

“Or know the signs,” Sam said, rubbing his mouth, “Okay, so why can't we confront him about it?”

 

Natasha let out a long-suffering sigh, “He’ll deny it and get defensive. He’ll withdraw away from you, which only makes it worse. The best we can do is keep a close watch on him and try to be supportive without letting him catch on.” She smiled at Sam, “Trust me, I know how to handle him.”

 

Sam nodded, “Gotcha,” he said, “Do we let the others know?”

 

Natasha stomped down on the selfish part of her that wanted to scream and tantrum that Clint was  _ her  _ friend and that Sam should feel  _ lucky _ that she was even letting him get  _ close _ to him, “If they notice, we’ll let them know. If they don't notice, we keep it to ourselves.”

 

“Sure that's a good idea? More eyes on this could really help.” Sam said.

 

Natasha picked up her book and unfurled from the sofa, all cat-like grace and deadliness coiled in every muscle. Sam instinctively leaned away, “Clint is my best friend, Sam. My  _ first _ friend. He means more to me than you will ever know, and I'll protect him until every last bit of life is squeezed out of me. If that means I have to protect him from you and the others,” she levelled him with a stare that had once made Nick Fury take a step back, “So be it.”

 

Sam swallowed, cowed before her wrath, “Got it,” he croaked, “We keep our mouths shut unless people start asking questions. You the boss, boss lady.”

 

Natasha’s lip twitched, “Thank you, Sam. I’m glad I can count on you.”

 

Recovering from his terror (though not completely, he wasn't stupid), he smiled back, “Happy to be of service.”

 

Natasha let herself smile this time, “Goodnight Sam,” she said. She turned and silently walked out of the library, leaving Sam behind her. She needed to rest, she had a mission to accomplish.

 

* * *

 

_ The bullets ripped through her body, but she couldn’t scream. It almost didn’t hurt, the shock taking her over, numbing the pain to a dull ache that she was distantly aware of. She looked up, relieved to see Hawkeye and the child some distance away, her efforts to move them successful. Hawkeye was looking at her in horror, keen eyes taking stock of her many bullet wounds. _

 

_ “You didn’t see that coming?” she teased, even as blood pooled in her mouth. Her heart stuttered and seized, and she collapsed on the ground. _

 

_ In her last moments, she felt her brother screaming at the other end of their connection. How could she leave him this way? She reached out with all of her strength, trying to comfort him, even in her last moments. It was no use, he had always been better at projection through their connection than her, which made sense, as it was his power that had breathed life to it. _

 

_ Still, she gathered her strength and tried to reach him. But he knew, he knew and he was distraught. As she slipped away from him, the last thing she could feel was her brother’s sorrow. With one last heave of her strength, she tried to reach him again. For the smallest moment, she made the barest contact. She didn’t think he noticed, and just a second later she was plummeting. _

 

_ Down, down, deep into a darkness that swallowed everything. Whatever light there was was sucked away, so much so that she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. In fact, she couldn’t feel her hand at all. She couldn’t feel her whole body. She couldn’t feel  _ anything _. There was nothing but her own mind. Terrified, she realized that her mind was starting to go as well; all of her memories, her sense of self, her ‘her’ was falling away into the blackness like water from a siv. Panicked, she lashed out at the connection to her brother, faint but still there, like the last ember of a great bonfire. She clutched it with all her strength, fighting off the darkness. She held on until everything else was gone, and all she knew was that she had to keep her hold on the connection, or she would be lost forever. _

 

_ Far in the distance, or maybe just in front of her, glowing yellow eyes watched her. She could feel their hunger, their desire for her. _

 

_ It terrified her. _

 

_ A grisly smile flashed under the eyes. _

 

_ She screamed. _

 

_ The silence was deafening. _

 

Wanda awoke with a jolt. She suddenly felt hot as her heart thundered in her chest, then icy cold the second later. For a minute, she couldn’t move, paralyzed by fear. Her body jerked and she sat up, panting and rubbing her chest where she’d felt the bullets pierce her body. Closing her eyes and shaking her head, she rolled out of bed and headed for the door to her brother’s room.

 

As she reached it, it opened from the other side, Pietro standing in front of her. He looked as wrecked as she felt, hair standing up, sweating profusely, eyes haunted. Wanda immediately fell against his chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly as he did the same, almost crushing her with his strength.

 

They stayed that way for several minutes, before Pietro tugged her into his room, leaving the door open. They crawled into his bed and wrapped themselves around one another again, as if afraid to let go.

 

“This won’t work,” Pietro said, “We’ve never slept alone before. Even when we were children, we shared a room. The only time we ever slept apart was at the orphanage, and we left there as soon as we could.”

 

Wanda buried her face in his neck, squeezing his ribs with her arms, “I know, I remember,” she said, “But we can’t live like this forever. What happens when we’re older? When we have families of our own? Get a bed big enough for four?”

 

Pietro said nothing, but she could feel how frustrated he was, because he knew she was right. They stayed wrapped in each other for a long time in the dark, not sleeping, just feeling the other’s life in their arms. Eventually, as the sky was beginning to lighten outside, Wanda pulled away and sat up.

 

“I have an idea, “ she said, “Instead of separate rooms, how about an apartment? We share a living space, but have our own spaces within it. That way, we’re close, but we can still have places to be away from one another.”

 

Pietro looked up at her, “I guess,” he said slowly, “But what about our rooms? Sleeping apart from each other is the issue here. Would we share a bedroom?”

 

Wanda bit her lip and thought for a moment, “Two bedroom, two beds in each. If we need to sleep next to one another, we can sleep in the other bed.”

 

Pietro considered it for a moment, “That . . . could work,” he said.

 

Wanda flopped back down next to him, “It’s a start,” she said, “Tomorrow, we’ll go to Stark, and ask him to set up an apartment.”

 

Pietro grumbled, “We spent years hating Stark, and now we live under the same roof, at his mercy.”

 

“He’s not as bad as we thought,” Wanda said, “He made mistakes, but he’s trying to make amends. I’ve seen his work, his charities. He’s doing more for what’s left of Sokovia than anyone else.” She closed her eyes and remembered tipping into his head. Not to do anything, just to see.

 

It had been shortly after the events in Sokovia, just before they had moved to the compound. She had been curious, more than anything else. Maybe there had been some malicious intent, but it was hard to let go of so many years of resentment and anger. What she found had erased that anger, and replaced it with sympathy. Tony Stark was a very broken man, and he knew it, but he still held his pieces together and pressed on. He had suffered loss, but he counted on no one, not even those he considered his friends. He was terrified of himself, of what he’d done and what he could do. He was lonely and heartbroken and desperate for a real connection with someone, but he’d been alone for so long that he wasn't even sure what it meant to be connected with someone. She had felt his pain, and her anger had gone. All she felt for him now was sympathy, empathy, and the hope that, one day, he could find someone to help hold the shattered pieces of himself together.

 

She opened her eyes, “Stark is a good man. He’ll help us,” she said.

 

Pietro huffed, but didn’t say anything. He could sense his sister’s decision was final, and let it drop. Besides, Stark  _ had _ given him all that money, he thought. He hadn’t used any of it, but maybe it was time to start? He glanced down at his sister and started to think up ideas about what he could buy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many feels in this chapter. Natasha/Clint friendship feels, Wanda/Pietro feels, Tony feels, all the feels. I have so many Tony emotions right now It's not even funny. Civil War fucked me up guys. I'm fucked.


	19. Be Our Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm so glad summer is here and I can write all I want. If only it weren't so HOT.
> 
> Title of the chapter from Beauty and the Beast.

Steve trotted down the hallway; he’d been up since five, unable to get a good sleep, so he’d gone for an early run. He’d tried to get Sam to come with him, but he’d seemed too tired and ignored Steve. So Steve had gone out for a run on his own, then spent some time in the gym. He was still too riled up to get any sleep, but it was already morning, so he wasn't getting any sleep while the sun was out (his eyes were too sensitive).

 

He’d decided, while he was pouring his coffee, to visit Tony. He’d made up some breakfast and poured the other man some coffee, and then stopped by his room. When he wasn't there, he’d headed for his workshop.

 

Sure enough, Tony was hunched over his work table, soldering some complex looking machinery. Steve tapped on the glass and bit back a laugh when the dark haired man jumped. His amusement turned to worry when he caught a look at Tony’s face; he looked exhausted.

 

Steve opened the door and stepped inside, “Brought some breakfast,” he said, “Thought you might like something to eat.”

 

Tony looked surprised to see him, “Uh, thanks,” he said, accepting the tray. He set it down on his work table and reached for the coffee, bypassing the food. Steve made an unhappy noise and Tony rolled his eyes, picking up the fork and taking a bite of the omelette, “So what brings you to my lair?” he asked around his mouthful.

 

Steve rolled his eyes, “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he admonished, “And I wanted to see how you were. You’ve been cooped up in here for a few days.”

 

“Been working,” Tony said, suddenly turning to devour his breakfast, “Got a little wrapped up.”

 

Steve smiled, “Well, I thought you could use a breather. It’s supposed to be a nice day out today,” he said, “You should get some sun.”

 

Tony made a disinterested noise, finishing off the last of his food, “Sure, I guess,” he said.

 

Steve eyed Tony, “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, “You seem a little off.”

 

Tony drained his coffee and set his plates back on the tray, “I’m fine Steve,” he said, flashing him a fragile smile, “Don’t worry about me.”

 

Steve frowned, “If something’s going on, you know I’m here, right? The whole team is here for you.” He shifted on his feet, “If you don't want to talk to me, I can get Rhodey for you.”

 

“No, thats . . .” Tony stopped, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, “Yeah, actually, that would be good. I should talk to Rhodey.”

 

Steve nodded, trying not to feel put out, “Alright. I’ll go find him,” he said. He turned to leave.

 

“You don’t have to go,” Tony said quickly, “I mean, not just yet.”

 

Steve glanced back at Tony, “Okay,” he said. He sat down next to Tony on the bench, “Do you want to talk or—?”

 

“No, just—” Tony stopped and ran his hand through his hair again, and he looked so frazzled that Steve reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. This seemed to be the right thing to do, because Tony melted into the touch. He closed his eyes and leaned closer to Steve, “Can you just stay with me? For a while? Please?”

 

“Of course,” Steve said, almost too quickly. He scooted closer on the bench and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders. He was so tense it was like touching stone. Tony let out a long sigh and slumped into him, resting his head on his shoulder.

 

They stayed that way for a long time, so long that Steve wondered if Tony had fallen asleep. He wouldn't have complained if he had though; Tony was notorious for neglecting himself to the absolute limit of human safety and then beyond that. Any amount of sleep that Tony could get was good in Steve’s book, and he would act as a pillow as long as Tony needed him to.

 

His theory was proven wrong, however, when a tap came at the glass door of the workshop. Tony sat upright in an instant, so quickly that he thought Tony might have tweaked his neck or something. Wanda and Pietro were at the door, peering in with wide, curious eyes.

 

Tony waved them inside, “Is this a bad time?” Wanda asked, “We can come back later.”

 

“No, now’s fine.” Tony stood and paced about a little, “What’s up kids?”

 

Wanda glanced over at Pietro; he scoffed and crossed his arms, which made Wanda roll her eyes. The whole exchange had Steve forcing down a laugh, “We were wondering if we could have a different suite in the compound,” Wanda said.

 

Tony raised an eyebrow, but it was Steve who asked them, “Is there something wrong with the rooms you have?”

 

Wanda shook her head, “No, nothing like that, it's just . . .” She trailed off. Pietro put a hand on her shoulder and she took a deep breath, “We were thinking that an apartment would be better for us. Something that has a shared space, but also separate spaces. Doctor Rosenfarb said we need to work on separating ourselves, but we don't have any experience being separate. So we thought an apartment might work better,” she explained.

 

Steve looked back at Tony, “That sounds reasonable,” Tony said, “I’d probably have to knock down a wall or two, but that should be fine. A corner suite might be best for that. I'll do some layouts today and hopefully we can start construction tomorrow,” he babbled away, picking up things from his work table and rearranging them.

 

Steve could see another work binge coming a mile away, “Tony, why don't you start that tomorrow?” he suggested, “I'm sure it's not urgent.”

 

Pietro looked like he was about to protest, but Steve levelled him with a look and his mouth shut with a click. Tony had his back to the exchange, but shook his head.

 

“It's fine, I can start it now,” he said. Steve bit his lip and looked to Wanda for help.

 

Wanda immediately caught his intentions, “No, tomorrow is better. Pietro and I can work on some ideas and bring them to you tomorrow.”

 

Pietro started to say something in Sokovian, but Wanda shushed him. Steve shot her a grateful look as Tony started to slow down.

 

“If you're sure,” Tony said, sounding very tired.

 

Wanda nodded, “Plus, we haven't told Doctor Rosenfarb. She might not think it's a good idea,” she said.

 

Tony finally put whatever was in his hand down (it looked like a hybrid of a car battery and a miniature vacuum cleaner); he rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes and let out a long breath, “Yeah, okay. Probably for the best. I need to sleep.” The last part he muttered to himself.

 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, “Why don't you leave things here for now and come up to the kitchen? Most of the coffee should still be there,” he said, even though he knew that Rhodey was up and had probably had his two cups and was working in his third (he only drank coffee in the mornings, but he could pretty much put an entire pot away by himself).

 

Tony made a noise that could be taken as agreement, so Steve took his wrist and started gently tugging him toward the door. Wanda grabbed her brother and did the same, the two of them speaking in low tones with each other. He led Tony all the way to the communal kitchen, the other man letting himself be tugged along.

 

Sure enough, Rhodey was in the kitchen, sipping at what was probably his third cup of coffee. He looked up as they entered, took one look at Tony, then gave Steve a look that spoke volumes.

 

Steve gave his own look and went to the coffee pot, “Looks like there's one cup left. You want it?” he asked Tony.

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Tony said, though he was focussing on Rhodey now. Rhodey said nothing and just slid his plate closer to Tony, who snatched a few pieces of fruit off of it and gobbled them down.

 

Steve and Rhodey exchanged a look while Steve did some slight-of-hand and poured decaf into Tony’s mug. He was started to see Rhodey’s face go ashen when Tony muttered, “Code light-blue, Rhodey.”

 

“Alright, you need a long nap,” Rhodey said, standing up and tugging Tony along, “And a shower.”

 

Tony just clung to Rhodey in a way that Steve hadn’t seen him do since the time he had gotten sober all that time ago. Steve tried to get a read off of Rhodey, but the man just shook his head and pulled Tony away. Steve was left standing in the kitchen, watching Tony be taken care of by his best friend and trying not to feel jealous.

 

* * *

 

_ He was standing on the platform, wearing his old costume and readying to take aim. An apple was balanced on his head, awaiting his brother’s arrow. The lights shone down on them, obscuring most of the cheering crowd. The Ringmaster called for silence and the dull roar that Clint could only barely hear fell away. He watched the Ringmaster’s lips for a second, but he knew the spiel by heart anyway. _

 

_ Across the ring, Barney stood with his own bow, and his own apple sitting on his head. He smiled at Clint and they both drew their bows, taking aim. It was a trick they had done a thousand times; shoot an apple off each other’s head at the same time. Child’s play at this point, nothing they hadn’t seen before. Clint could probably do it blindfolded. _

 

_ A sweeping darkness washed across Clint at that moment, so quickly that Clint almost thought he  _ had _ been blindfolded. But there was no way that any blindfold could be  _ this _ dark. It was like all the light had been sucked away, leaving him completely blind. _

 

_ Clint felt a sick sense of dread fill him; if he was blind, what use was he? A blind-deaf carny with no education was even more useless than he was already (and there was something wrong with that thought, but he couldn’t place it). He’d be relegated to the freak show, or worse, kicked out entirely. He’d have to rely entirely on his brother, and Barney would hate him for it. He’d resent him and eventually leave him and he would be all alone in the world. _

 

_ Clint felt his body move and went to scream; he couldn’t see! He would miss the shot! No sound came from him. He couldn’t control his own body. He let the arrow fly. _

 

_ Clint shouldn’t have been able to hear it from all the way across the ring, especially since he could hardly hear someone speaking right next to him on a good day, but it came crystal clear to his ear; the wet ‘thud’ of the arrow burrowing into flesh. A chill went up his spine as the audience began to scream. _

 

_ In the distance, through the black, he could see a pair of yellow eyes watching him. _

 

Clint came awake with a yelp as he crashed to the floor. His head swam and he tried to make sense of up or down. When he finally regained his bearings, he realized his phone was buzzing on the nightstand. He couldn’t hear it, but he could see the light shining on the wall.

 

Groaning, he pushed himself up and reached for his phone. His aids were next to his phone, so he popped those in before picking up the phone, not bothering to check who it was, “What?” he snapped.

 

“Geez, someone’s grouchy,” came Barney’s voice from the other side of the call, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

 

Clint groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Something like that,” he said, “You need something?”

 

There was a pause, “Can’t I call and check in on my little brother?” he asked, sounding a little put out, “Seriously, are you okay? You sound kinda wrecked.”

 

Clint let out a long sigh and let the tension drain from him, “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, “Had a nightmare is all.”

 

“Not the one about the Beauty and the Beast furniture again, was it? I keep telling you not to eat so much junk food before bed,” Barney admonished, “I never understood why that movie freaked you out so much.”

 

“Nah, it was something else,” Clint said, sitting back down on the bed, “Hey Barney?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You remember that one trick we used to do? The one where we shot the apples off each other’s head at the same time?”

 

“Yeah, hard to forget. We must have done that one a million times,” Barney said with a laugh.

 

Clint managed a chuckle, “Yeah, that was a pretty popular trick,” he said. He waited a long time before speaking again, “You ever scared that we would screw it up?”

 

Barney didn’t answer for a second, “I was never worried that  _ you _ would screw up.”

 

Clint smiled, “Thanks,” he said, “So why did you call? And don’t give me any ‘just to check up on you’ bullshit.”

 

Clint could just imagine the eyeroll he received for that, “Fine, I was wondering if you wanted me to send you the rest of your stuff,” Barney said.

 

Clint felt something turn over in his stomach, “What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“I mean, it looks like you’re making this Avengers thing permanent again, so I was wondering if you wanted me to send you the rest of your shit. I was thinking of making that room a craft room or something. I just learned how to crochet and I was thinking I could figure out how sewing works, but Gladys―I told you about her, didn’t I?―said that it’s best to have a sewing room on the side of the house that gets to most sun and has the biggest windows. It’s better for your eyes or something. Anyway, that would be your room, and I don't want your shit cluttering up my creative space. So you want me to send it or are you going to come get it soon?”

 

Clint barely heard any of what Barney was saying over the pounding of his own heart. Something dark flashed in the corner of his eyes and he shook his head to clear it, “Uh, just put it in a different room or something,” he eventually said.

 

“Really?” Barney questioned, “You sure you don’t want it? It’s been sitting here for months.”

 

“Well, I’m going to come back,” Clint said, but his voice didn't sound like his own.

 

Barney was quiet a moment, “I thought you were back with the Avengers for good.”

 

“Well you thought wrong,” Clint snapped, “Just move my stuff to the guest room or something.”

 

“Fine, shit. No need to bite my head off,” Barney grumbled.

 

Clint groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry, it’s just . . . I guess that nightmare messed me up.”

 

“Sure,” Barney said, sounding pissy, “Don’t be surprised when you come home and your shit’s in the barn.”

 

“Fuck you,” Clint said, but he was laughing, “I would kill it in the barn, and you know it.”

 

Now Barney was laughing as well, “I swear to God one day I’m going to go into that barn and you’ll have made a damn nest in the rafters.”

 

“Finally fulfill my dreams of becoming a real bird,” Clint said, adding a note of longing to his voice, “Maybe I’ll invite Sam over and we can squawk at passers by.”

 

“Don't squawk at my neighbors, they already think I’m crazy,” Barney said, “Anyway, I’ll keep your stuff for now, but Clint, seriously,” Barney sounded serious now, “I think you should stay with the Avengers. They’re good for you.”

 

Clint felt his stomach twist again, but forced it down, “Sure, I’ll think about it,” he said.

 

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Clint sighed and took out his hearing aids; he didn’t feel like wearing them much. In fact, he felt more like going back to sleep. Instead, he got up and went to have a shower.

 

As he passed the mirror, he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, it had almost looked like a pair of yellow eyes were looking at him. When he turned his head, there was nothing.

 

Clint blinked and rubbed his eyes, “Should get my eyes checked,” he muttered to himself as he began to strip.

 

It was probably the light playing tricks on him.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Rhodey said as soon as they were in Tony’s room. It wasn't a question, or a request, but rather a demand. He was leaving Tony no room to wiggle out.

 

“I think I’m in love with Steve,” Tony said, “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

 

“Oh boy,” rhodey sighed, “Alright, first things first, shower. Then you need a long nap. When was the last time you slept?”

 

“What day is it?” Tony asked, letting himself be herded into the bathroom.

 

“Tuesday,” Rhodey answered.

 

“Oh, so only—”

 

“The eighth.”

 

“Ah,” Tony realized, “Then it’s been a long time.”

 

“Go. Shower.” Rhodey pushed Tony into the bathroom, rolling his eyes at his friend, “I’m going to get you something to eat.”

 

“Steve brought me breakfast,” Tony mumbled, “In the lab this morning.”

 

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “Huh, well, I’m sure you could use another plate. More fruit at least.”

 

Tony nodded and finally closed the door to the bathroom. A minute later, Rhodey heard the shower running and sighed. His best friend was a real piece of work, but he wouldn't trade Tony for anyone.

 

He was just coming back with a plate of sliced fruit when Tony stepped out of the bathroom, towel dried and naked as the day he was born, “Come on man, pants.”

 

“Sorry,” Tony said, striding over to his dresser and pulling out a pair of sweatpants, “Nothing you’ve never seen though.”

 

“If you think I want to keep seeing your pasty white ass, you’ve got another thing coming,” Rhodey said, setting the fruit down and picking up a bit of kiwi to munch on, “Saw enough of it in college.”

 

Tony just laughed and pulled on his pants. Rhodey let himself feel relieved; Tony seemed to be a little calmer now that he felt clean. Rhodey passed him the plate of fruit and sat next to him on the bed, “So, Steve?” he prompted.

 

Tony paused midway through chewing some watermelon (his favourite summer fruit), “Uh, yeah,” he said, “Pepper said something a few nights ago and it got me all freaked out.”

 

“What did she say?” Rhodey asked.

 

Tony shrugged, “Something about how she could see how I felt about him, even when I was with her,” he said.

 

Rhodey hummed, “Yeah, you are a bit obvious,” he said. When Tony glared at him, he huffed, “Don’t give me that look, the only person who hasn’t noticed is Steve.”

 

“Really?” Tony cringed, “Good Lord,” he groaned, falling back on the bed and covering his face with his hands.

 

“Aw Tony, it’s not that bad,” Rhodey said, trying not to laugh, “To be fair, I don't think the wonder twins or Vision have caught on yet.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Tony said, muffled behind his own hands, “Steve’s going to hate me.”

 

“Seriously?” Rhodey couldn't believe his ears, “We’re talking about the same Steve here, right? Big blonde white guy? More muscles than Terry Crews? Heart and a sense of justice bigger than all of the United States? That Steve?”

 

“That’s the one, and he’s going to be so weirded out by me. I’m going to ruin our friendship because I couldn’t keep my damn feelings to myself,” Tony moaned.

 

“I doubt that Tony. Steve’s a sweet guy, I don't think you could ruin anything with him,” Rhodey said.

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony said, hands falling away from his face, “But that doesn’t mean he’ll return my feelings. He’ll probably be all freaked out by another guy being attracted to him, especially one who he thought of as a friend.”

 

“Wait wait wait, hold up.” Rhodey waved a hand, trying to wrap his head around what Tony was babbling about, “You think the reason Steve won’t accept your feelings is because he’s  _ straight _ ?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony asked, incredulous.

 

Rhodey put his face in his hand, “Okay, go to bed Tony. You seriously need the sleep.”

 

“Tell me what you mean,” Tony demanded as Rhodey rolled him up in the blankets.

 

“Sleep,” Rhodey ordered.

 

“Rhodey, tell m—”

 

“Sleep!” Rhodey shoved a pillow over Tony’s face, mock suffocating him, “Go to sleep, and we’ll talk about it once you’re not hallucinating any more.”

 

Tony shoved the pillow away and glared at Rhodey, “Fine, but only because I want to, not because you told me to,” he groused.

 

“Sure buddy,” Rhodey said, not fooled in the slightest. Tony glared at him for another second before dropping his head to the pillow and falling asleep in seconds.

 

Rhodey shook his head, “For a genius, you are the stupidest person I know,” he said. He picked up the empty plate and went to exit the room.

 

Steve was waiting for him at the end of the hall—not in front of the door, so he couldn't be labeled as  _ hovering _ , but close enough to ambush Rhodey the minute he left the room, “Is he okay?” Steve asked.

 

“He’ll be fine.” Rhodey forced himself not to smile. These two idiots were made for each other, if only they could get their heads out of their asses long enough to see it.

 

Steve still looked worried, but he didn’t say anything else; with one last look down the hallway to Tony’s suite, he turned and walked back towards the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Rhodey sighed and shook his head with a small smile, “Idiots.”

 

* * *

 

Pietro let out a relieved breath when he saw his sister in the common lounge area. He’d told her he was going into town for a few minutes, but it had taken him all day to get up the nerve to tell her so and actually follow through. He’d taken his cell phone with him (another ‘gift’ from Stark) and kept his mind receptive to her, but it was the first time he’d been out of the compound without his sister. Wanda had agreed that it would be good for them, but he couldn't help but feel worried.

 

Seeing her, relaxed and happy, put him at ease. They could be apart, but still okay. It wasn’t the end of the world if they weren’t always together.

 

Pietro felt his relief die when he saw who Wanda was talking so happily with; Vision, the robot thing that paraded around like a man. Pietro wasn’t sure why the thing bothered him so much, but he did  _ not _ feel comfortable with it and his sister being so cozy. He waved to get his sister’s attention and smiled when she came right over, leaving the robot on the couch.

 

“What is it?” she asked. She caught sight of the boxes he was carrying, “What’s that?”

 

Pietro grinned, “Presents,” he said.

 

Wanda huffed, “You are terrible,” she said, even though her eyes sparkled. It had been a long time since he was able to get her any kind of gift.

 

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder, “Come on, I want you to open them now,” he said, tugging her away.

 

“Oh, let me say goodbye to Vision first.” Wanda ducked out of his grip. Pietro, faster than her as always, caught her wrist before he could stop himself. She looked up at him, confused, “Pietro.”

 

“Sorry,” he said, letting her go, “Hurry back.”

 

Wanda stared at him for another minute, but then left to go back to speak to Vision, who had been watching the entire exchange. Pietro stood up a little straighter and puffed his chest out a little, failing to resist the urge to try and intimidate the robot. Vision didn’t even look at him, too focused on Wanda to notice. Pietro wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, but he felt oddly threatened by this not-human. Wanda laughed at something he said to her and finally left him to return to her brother. She slid under his arm easily, either not noticing his mood of ignoring it.

 

Deciding that he didn’t want to have a confrontation right now, Pietro said nothing about it and pulled her along to her suite. They sat down on the couches and Wanda crossed her legs, eager to receive her gifts. Pietro chuckled and passed her the first one.

 

Wanda tore through the fancy wrapping and pulled out the lovely dress he had bought for her, “Pietro this is beautiful!” she exclaimed. She stood up and twirled with the dress pressed to her body.

 

Pietro smiled and dug into the pile, pulling out a small box, “This goes really well with it.”

 

Wanda raised an eyebrow and took the little box. She untied the delicate red ribbon and set it aside—probably to tie into her hair or use in something else—and opened the box. She gasped at the intricate white gold necklace, with a bright red gem pendant. She gently fingered the braided chain, “Pietro this is gorgeous,” she breathed. She’d never had something so nice in her life.

 

Pietro chuckled and reached to take the box, “Let me put it on for you,” he said, picking up the necklace and undoing the clasp.

 

Wanda smiled and turned around, lifting her hair out of the way so Pietro could put the necklace around her neck. He closed the clasp and she let her hair fall in a thick wave. She got up and trotted to the mirror to inspect the red gem sitting just at her sternum. It glittered a little in the light, the red of the gem complimenting her pale skin greatly. Pietro smiled, laughing as she admired herself, “Like a bird with a shiny,” he teased.

 

Wanda glared at him, “Show me what else, you jerk.”

 

A half an hour later, they had opened all of the gifts Pietro had bought her. Wanda seemed quite pleased with her new trove of treasures, but she looked at Pietro curiously, “What’s the occasion?” she asked.

 

Pietro shrugged, “None, really,” he said, “I just felt like getting you some gifts. Stark gave me all this money, might as well put it to good use.”

 

Wanda’s smile faded, “I suppose,” she said. Pietro waited for her to continue (he could just feel that she had more to say), “Do you think it’s right? To use Tony’s money so frivolously?”

 

“He gave it to us,” Pietro said, “It’s ours to spend.”

 

“He gave it to use so we could live, not buy silly things,” Wanda said.

 

Pietro grumbled, “But we live here! We live in Stark’s house and eat food he paid for and use his facilities! If he’s going to be our benefactor, we should at least get something out of it.”

 

Wanda sighed, “It’s not like that,” she said, “You don’t know him.”

 

“And you’ve forgiven him too easily,” Pietro accused. Wanda looked like she wanted to slap him.

 

“And you’re acting as though he killed our parents directly,” Wanda snapped, “He’s not a bad man, and he’s not at fault for what happened to us.”

 

Pietro grumbled and looked away; Wanda sighed again, “Pietro, I know you still hold resentment, but it’s time to put it away. Stark had nothing to do with what happened to us, anymore so than a toy maker does when a boy shoots his eye out with a BB gun that he made.”

 

Pietro crossed his arms and leaned back into the couch, ready to sulk, but he couldn’t deny that Wanda’s words rang true, “I don’t like him,” he said.

 

“You don’t have to like him,” Wanda said, “You just shouldn’t hate him.”

 

Pietro sighed, “So, you want me to return the gifts?”

 

“I didn’t say that,” Wanda said, perhaps a bit quickly, “He did give us a lot of money, and we don't really need it if we live here,” she twisted her fingers around the necklace, “So I guess things like this are okay. Once in a while.”

 

Pietro grinned, “So you’re keeping it all?”

 

“Well, it would be a shame to take it all back,” Wanda said, “But don’t do this again.” She shoved him with her foot, “Only for holidays.”

 

Pietro grabbed her ankle and started to tickle her. She shrieked and started to flail, and they set off tussling. They chased each other around for a good forty-five minutes before they collapsed in a pile of giggles. Wanda gave him one last half-hearted shove when Pietro pinched her side. They stayed that way for a long time, just lying on the floor, feeling content with the world. There were still things they would need to deal with, but for now, they could just sit and relax, if only for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the codes Rhodey and Tony use; Code Blue was for when Tony felt suicidal and needed Rhodey to come stay with him. They made it in university, but it's stuck around throughout the years. If you remember a couple chapters back, when Tony came to the compound after drunk/tipsy driving, that he was just really upset, not 'code blue', but more of a 'code light-blue', meaning that he was upset enough to be reckless, but he didn't really want to die. He's using it again here because, while he's really upset, he doesn't want to end his life. He just needs his best friend.
> 
> I saw X-Men; Apocalypse. Nightcrawler is my blueberry cinnamon roll sunshine child. I love him so much and no one will ever convince me otherwise.


	20. Brave Little Toaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, finally. I've been a little preoccupied with some other stuff, so this has taken a back seat. I'm hoping to finish this soon though, bare with me.

Tony woke up feeling less like he wanted to crawl into a hole. He still felt pretty awful, but it was the more manageable, every-day awful that he was used to. He got up and put on some better clothes and decided to go talk to Rhodey again. He needed to figure out what he was going to do about Steve. He couldn’t tell the guy, it would be too big a strain on their friendship, but he had to do something or he would go bonkers.

 

Putting on some real clothes, he trotted down the hall in search of his best friend. As he passed through the glass and chrome, he thought he saw a shadow in the corner of his eye and turned, but there was nothing there. He shrugged it off and continued down the hallway, but a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach made him slow down, cautious. Natasha had been coaching him on trusting his instincts more, and now his instinct were telling him that there was something dangerous nearby. Was he having another panic attack? It sure as shit felt like it.

 

Tony focussed on keeping his breathing even, like Sam had taught him. He picked up his steps, not going to let him own brain freak him out. As he passed Clint’s room, a chill raced up his spine and he let out a (completely masculine) squeak. Something was  _ wrong _ here, but damned if he knew what it was. He raced down the hall, hair on the back of his neck standing and his spine tingling. He didn’t stop until he reached the kitchen.

 

Sam looked up as Tony came skidding into the kitchen, “Shit man, you look like a bat outta hell. Something wrong?”

 

Tony took a few deep breaths, ready to tell Sam about the sick,  _ wrong _ feeling he felt, but in an instant, it was gone. His shaking, tingling, and nervous feelings were gone, and he felt none of the aftershocks he usually did, “Uh, no,” he said, weirded out, “Just looking for Rhodey. You seen him?”

 

Sam raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, “I think he’s working out. Try the gym?”

 

Tony nodded and started off again, avoiding the hall he had just come from. Whatever that was, it had been weird.

 

Rhodey wasn’t in the gym, but in the large ‘practise area’ that they had sectioned off for their resident flyers and those with large, destructive gifts, like Wanda and Vision. Rhodey was flying around, but mostly for something to do as he watched Wanda practise with Agatha.

 

Tony waved at Rhodey to get his attention; Rhodey did a mid-air spin and landed beside Tony with a clank, “Show off,” Tony said, but he was grinning.

 

Rhodey flipped up his faceplate up, “Jealous.” He grinned, “What’s up man?”

 

Tony glanced at Wanda and Agatha in the corner, a strange red glow around them, “It can wait,” he said.

 

“It’s about you and Steve, right?” Rhodey asked. He looked over at the two women, “I can watch them fine from here. Talk to me Tony.”

 

Tony smiled, “Thanks man,” he said, “So, what the fuck do I do?” Tony resisted the urge to flail in a panicky manner.

 

Rhodey groaned, “You’re hopeless,” he said.

 

Tony narrowed his eyes, “You’re a terrible friend.”

 

“You love me. And you should talk to Steve,” Rhodey said, “Straight up man, that’s my advice. Talk to Steve.”

 

Tony groaned and put his face in his hands, “God, how is this my life? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

 

“You  _ so _ do not want the answer to that,” Rhodey laughed.

 

Tony glared, “If you weren’t in the suit, I would elbow you in the ribs so hard.”

 

Rhodey just laughed at him (the jerk). They let the silence hang around for a moment, “You really should talk to him about it though,” Rhodey said, “Even if things don’t work out, I don’t think Steve’s the kind of guy to hold a grudge.”

 

Tony sighed, “Probably. But we work together. It would be weird.”

 

“That didn’t stop you from dating Pepper,” Rhodey said. Something occurred to him, “Tony, is this a gay thing?”

 

“What do you mean?” Tony asked.

 

“Is the reason you're freaking out about this because you're having a gay crisis?” Rhodey asked, “Because let me tell you, I think most of the people on this team aren’t straight.”

 

“Really?” Tony raised an eyebrow. Rhodey had excellent gaydar when he paid attention to that kind of thing, but he never bothered to think much deeper about it if he didn’t know the person.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Rhodey said, “I think I’m the straightest person on the team.”

 

“Huh.” Tony paused, “So Steve . . . ?”

 

“I think you should go for it man,” Rhodey said, smiling at his friend, “I know you’ve always held back with guys because of Stark Industries, but it’s 2015, I think you’ll be fine.”

 

Tony shifted on his feet; it was true, he’d always held off from seducing men because he knew the board would have a shit fit (and he had some lingering issues about his fears vs. his father’s approval), but Pepper was heading the company and he was Iron Man, and the company was making more money than Howard’s best five years combined (not adjusting for inflation, but still). Stark Industries was quickly becoming  _ the _ titan in the technology industry, so Tony could pretty much get away with anything and the board couldn't do shit about it. That thought made Tony relax a little, the tension in his shoulders easing.

 

Rhodey patted his back, “There you go man. You’ll be fine.”

 

Tony smiled, feeling a lot better about the whole thing, when another sliver of dread crawled back into his chest, “There’s no way it would ever work.”

 

“Oh my God,” Rhodey groaned.

 

“He’s Captain America Rhodey!  _ Captain America! _ How the fuck do I measure up?”

 

Rhodey looked like he was three seconds from smacking the stupid right out of Tony’s brain, “You’re  _ Iron Man _ , that’s how you measure, you dumb fuck.”

 

Tony flapped his hands ineffectually, “Yeah, but I’m also  _ Tony Stark _ , the biggest hot mess this side of the country. You know what he is when he’s not Captain  _ freaking _ America? Steve Rogers, the world’s most perfect human. And I don't just mean bodily, that man is a damned saint.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Rhodey said, “I stand by my advice. Talk to him. You might be surprised.”

 

Tony grumbled and proceeded to pout, which Rhodey pointedly ignored. He looked back over to where Wanda and Agatha were still practising. A sudden burst of red light and a plume of smoke startled them both into rushing over.

 

“What happened?” Tony asked, mouth quicker than his friend’s, as always.

 

Wanda coughed and fanned away the smoke with her hand, “Nothing. Just messed up the spell,” she said.

 

“You’re sure?” Rhodey asked, watching Agatha like a hawk. If the targeting system in the suit was trained on her, then, well, he was just making sure it was working.

 

Agatha raised one grey eyebrow, “We were conducting a spell to summon sprites. It was completely harmless,” she said.

 

“Sure, we believe you,” Tony said, the sarcasm all but dripping from his words.

 

Agatha sighed, “Wanda’s problem is not in power, but in control. She needs to learn to use the right amount of power for spells, or she could overload the spell and create a cataclysm.”

 

“Like exploding a simple spell for sprite summoning,” Wanda said, picking up the charred brass bowl they had been using. Tony thought he saw something that looked suspiciously like bone in the ashes.

 

Agatha muttered something that didn’t sound like English—or any language Tony knew— and took the bowl, “I think that’s enough for today, Wanda,” she said.

 

Wanda looked a little crestfallen. Agatha patted her arm, “It’s nothing you did my dear. I need to look into some things,” she explained, which seemed to mollify the young girl.

 

Rhodey led Agatha away, back to her ‘cell’ (a comfy little suite with locks on the outside—Tony had spent days making sure it was inescapable, but he was half-certain that the witch could have left the compound and be long gone by the time they even noticed she was missing). Tony was left with Wanda; he turned to her and waved her to follow him.

 

“Come on, you can show me those ideas for an apartment you came up with,” he said.

 

Wanda nodded and fell into step next to him, “Pietro has the sketches,” she said.

 

“I see. Where is the little blur? He’s usually not far from you,” Tony said, looking around like he was expecting the teenager to pop out at them.

 

Wanda played with the chain of her necklace, “He’s around. He’s in the forest, exploring,” she said, glancing out the window to the expanse of trees they could see.

 

Tony hummed, “So how’re things with you two? I’ve heard there’s been some tension.”

 

Wanda shrugged, “We’re okay,” she said in a manner that suggested they were  _ not _ , okay, but Tony didn't feel as though he was the person she needed to talk to about it.

 

“Well, I’m sure whatever problems you two have can be worked out,” he said, “Not that I would know, I’m absolute shit at taking care of life stuff. Don’t listen to me, it’s probably the worst thing to do,” he rambled.

 

Wanda laughed and smiled up at him, “Thank you,” she said.

 

Tony smiled back and they walked toward the kitchen, discussing plans for the apartment. Tony felt something in him ease; he’d done very wrong by this girl and her brother, and yet she could stand there and, if not forgive him, at least look past it. It was comforting to know that all of his past mistakes didn’t have to haunt him.

 

A gust of wind blew past them and Pietro was at Wanda’s side, glaring at Tony. He felt himself tense again.

 

“Pietro,” Wanda said, snuggling into him immediately, “We were talking about the plans for the apartment.”

 

Pietro hummed, but didn’t say anything. Tony had a feeling that, whatever was going on with them, Pietro was going to need more help than his sister.

 

* * *

 

Clint groaned and rolled out of bed, even though he would have loved to just go back to sleep. He scratched the back of his neck and stood, gearing up to face the day. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was nearly noon. He grumbled; despite what people might think of him, he actually preferred to be awake early with the sun. It was a habit left over from his days in the circus and working with SHIELD, one that he could never seem to shake.

 

Quickly getting dressed and making himself presentable, Clint wandered through the compound, not really planning on going anywhere, but wanting to make appearances. He eventually found himself in the firing range, his practice bow set aside from the last time he was in here. When was that? He usually loved coming down here, it was strange that he hadn’t been down in nearly two weeks.

 

Shrugging it off, Clint crossed the floor and picked up his bow. His nightmare flashed across his mind, but he shut his eyes and refused to let it get to him; his own brain trying to psych himself out. He shouldered the full quiver nearby and went to his least preferred lane. It was the easiest, but he felt like he needed something easy for just right now.

 

Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button to set up the course and readied himself. The target popped up and he fired, lightning fast. Orange was bad, take out with one shot, blue was good, do not shoot, and red was ultra bad, shoot multiple times. The target popped up and moved around and crossed over each other and disappeared if he didn't get them fast enough; he could do this in his sleep.

 

He was dimly aware of Natasha’s presence sidling up to his right. It was like becoming aware of your own blinking, how seamlessly she slid into his perception. He wasn't wearing his hearing aids, but he could sense her all the same. He didn't pause for a second in his firing.

 

A sudden chill washed over him and the edges of his vision swam for a moment. It was enough of a break in his concentration that his next arrow clipped a blue target, causing said arrow to pierce slightly off-centre in the orange target.

 

Natasha shifted her weight, the only indication that she had noticed his slip up. He completed the rest of the run without a hitch, even though he was furious with himself. He never missed, that was his entire thing. He was Hawkeye! If he missed, he was no better than any other grunt who could shoot straight. When the run ended he all but slammed his bow down.

 

“Clint?” Natasha asked, close enough that he could hear the distant ring of her voice. She stepped in front of him and signed, “Are you alright?”

 

Normally, Clint would have no trouble confiding in her, telling her about his nightmares, his fears. She was the one person he could trust with that piece of him. An irrational anger bubbled up inside of him, “Leave me the hell alone!” he snapped.

 

Clint threw down his bow and quiver, not caring if they were damaged—they could break for all he gave a shit—and stomped off, brushing past Natasha roughly. He could feel her gasp as they collided, but he strangely didn’t feel any guilt.

 

Some small part of him railed against his behaviour, but he couldn't seem to get that part of him to work long enough to do anything about it before it was smothered by whatever else was making him so edgy. His vision swam again, but he continued to walk down the halls. For a moment, when he passed his reflection in the window, a shadowy figure followed him, sitting just in the corner of his eye, but it flitted away when he turned to look.

 

Clint shook his head and shut his eyes, and when he opened them, his vision was fine again. He let out a quiet sigh of relief; he thought for a second that he should see a doctor about a possible head injury that was affecting his vision, but it was chased away as soon as it formed. He wasn’t injured, he was only tired. All he needed was a good rest and he would be fine.

 

With this thought firmly in place, drowning out any other desires or needs, he trekked back to his suite and crawled into bed.

 

* * *

 

Pietro did not like Vision.

 

Vision wasn't exactly sure  _ why _ Pietro didn't like him; he'd never done anything untoward to him, that he knew of, and they rarely crossed paths (aside from a few instances), despite their close living arrangements.

 

It baffled Vision. More so than that, it saddened him, for he had never been hated before. Ultron, for all he tried to destroy him and the whole of humanity, had done so out of a twisted love for the world he had been born to protect, and had loved Vision in his own way. There was no word for it in any language that Vision knew; the love of a disappointed parent when their creation is not what they intended it to be.

 

So Pietro’s hate was new, and therefore fascinating, but also perplexing and disheartening. Emotions were so odd that even his own were a mystery to him, much less the emotions of another. He wished desperately to seek out Wanda again, but therein seemed to be the crux of the issue. Pietro seemed to hate him most when he was with Wanda, and he was never far from his sister and had an uncanny knack for knowing when Vision was about to speak to her. One or two instances he could dismiss as an inevitability (they did occupy the same space), four or five times was anomaly, but the nine times it had happened approached statistical impossibility for such a short period of time.

 

So Vision was left to stew in his confusion. He could, he supposed, just ask Pietro outright, but that seemed a little forward, and humans on a whole seemed to prefer subtlety over outright honesty. They threw around arbitrary terms like ‘politeness’ and such, but they really were such strange, contradictory things. Vision loved them so.

 

It was out of this love that Vision drifted through the halls, not phasing through the walls to get to his destination—which would have been much faster. He was hoping to catch Wanda on a trip to the kitchen, or to the training gym, or on her way out to a walk in the forest. All of these were reasonable reasons for her to be walking alone through the halls at this time of day.

 

To his great delight, he spotted her, just ahead, wandering in the direction of the kitchen, but clearly not in a hurry. Vision floated up next to her and plopped down silently, walking at her pace.

 

“Hello Wanda,” he greeted, trying to remember his customary small talk questions, “How are you?”

 

Wanda looked up at him and smiled, “Hello Vision. I’m well,” she said, her face twisting like she wanted to laugh, “And you?”

 

Vision smiled back, feeling oddly light, like he had shifted his density without knowing it, “I too am well. Thank you for inquiring.”

 

This time Wanda did laugh; such a nice sound, Vision thought, “How is your brother?” he asked, still remembering his small talk, though he also wanted to ask after Pietro. He wished to know more about the man, and perhaps gain insight into why he didn’t seem to like him.

 

The genuine smile disappeared from Wanda’s face, replaced instead by a tight, strained one. The muscle shift was small, but the end result on her face was so startling that Vision wished to take back his words the moment they came from his mouth.

 

“He’s fine,” Wanda said, “He’s with Dr. Rosenfarb now. We’re learning to be independant from each other.” She looked ahead, but her gaze seemed far away, “I’m worried about him.”

 

Not for the first time, Vision wished he was older, that he had more personal experience in life, which might allow him to relate better to the people around him. He wanted to help Wanda, offer advice, but he had nothing to offer, so he reverted to the arbitrary politeness he had come to know, “I’m sorry,” he said.

 

Wanda smiled at him again, this time sadly—how could there be so many different smiles? Humans were amazing—and said, “Thank you.”

 

Vision offered a smile back, hoping he was showing the right one, “I wish I could do something to help,” he said, meaning it.

 

Wanda’s smile changed yet again, “Thank you Vision, that’s very sweet of you,” she said, “But you listening is enough.”

 

And then Wanda did something remarkable; she slipped her arm through Vision’s and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. All of a sudden he felt more aware of everything around him, hypersensitive and alert. He crooked his arm to let hers rest more easily in it, committing the sensation of her warmth so close to him to exact memory. If he looked down at her, he could see that her hair was not all the same colour, that some were darker, lighter, or redder than the others, creating the rich body of colour that was so beautiful he felt he could spend forever just memorizing each strand.

 

Eventually he found his voice again, “I would be honoured to listen, if you would like to speak,” he said.

 

Wanda hummed, “Thank you,” she said again. She didn't say anything for a long moment, but Vision could feel her tensing and untensing, readying herself for what she had to say.

 

“He doesn’t want me to leave the compound,” she said, “He’ll leave for quick trips into the city,” here he noticed she touched the golden necklace that rested at her collarbone, “But he demands to know where I am at all times.”

 

“The two of you share separation anxiety,” Vision said; it wasn’t a question, but an observation. The information had spread throughout the Avengers, though supposedly it was ‘need to know’ information.

 

Wanda nodded, “He’s worse than me, I think,” she said, “We can be apart sometimes, during the day, if we know where the other is. But he constantly checks on me, like he’s suspicious. He doesn’t like it when I spend time with others, even when he’s not there.” Wanda closed her eyes like she was trying to shut out something unpleasant, “I feel smothered by him, but at night I can’t sleep without him next to me. I feel like I might die if we spend too long apart. I want to be free of this, but it feels like all he wants is for things to go back to the way they were. Before all of this.”

 

She gestured with one hand to the compound at large. Vision did not need to be able to read minds to feel the frustration pouring off of her, “That sounds like a tense situation indeed. Have you spoken to you brother about this?”

 

Wanda touched the necklace again, “No, he won’t listen to reason. He doesn't even want to sleep separately, even though he agreed to apartment idea,” she grumbled, “It's like he forgets that I can sense his thoughts. He makes me so  _ mad _ sometimes.”

 

Unsure of what to do, Vision decided to try and distract her from her anger, “Would you like to hear a joke?” he asked, “Mr. Stark told me one the other day.”

 

“Sure,” Wanda said, angling her body towards him, a bodily indication that she was interested in what he had to say. He was getting better at remembering body language.

 

“Two toasters are sitting on a counter,” Vision began, “One toaster turns to the other and says, ‘Do you sometimes feel empty?’ To which the other toaster replies,” he paused slightly for effect, “Oh my God! It’s a talking toaster!” he finished.

 

For a moment, Wanda was silent, and Vision feared that his joke was unfunny, but then Wanda burst into laughter, the sound of it ringing through the halls like clear bells.

 

It took a long time for her laughter to die down, but by the time it did, she was snuggled even closer into his side, “You are a very strange being,” she said, then giggled, “A talking toaster indeed.”

 

Vision smiled, glad that he had lightened her mood; in the weeks of her brothers return, her mood had changed dramatically. At first, she had seemed elated to have her brother back, and she still seemed to be happy that he was alive, but to some extent he could see that happiness erode in small moments here and there. He did not have family—save perhaps for Mr. Stark, but that was another matter—so he could not imagine what she might be going through. Hopefully she and her brother could reach an equalibrium that suited them both.

 

Remembering his mission, Vision turned to Wanda again; from this angle he could see that she had a lovely dusting of freckles across her shoulders, “I was wondering, Wanda, that we might have a moment alone again.”

 

Wanda paused for a fraction of a second and then looked up at him, “Do you mean like before? When we connected?” she asked.

 

Vision nodded, “There are still many things I wish to understand, and I think you might be able to help me,” he said.

 

Wanda smiled up at him, “I would be honoured to help,” she said. She squeezed his arm and he became acutely aware that she was pressing it against her breasts. This meant something else, didn't it? Something past the human desire for contact. He scrambled trying to remember what it was, but found he was distracted by the way the light of the hall made her eyes shine an almost coppery colour. 

 

A slight gust of wind and a blur passed them, “Wanda,” Pietro said, not even glancing at Vision aside from a brief glare, “Let's get lunch.”

 

Wanda tightened her grip on his arm, but Vision could see the way her muscles bunched and shifted, as though to move towards her brother. The two states warred within the her for a moment, but then she let go of Vision and took her brother’s hand.

 

“Sounds good,” she said. She turned back to Vision, “You should join us.”

 

Vision glanced at Pietro, who was side-eyeing him with an air of disdain. He would have liked to join Wanda for lunch, but he felt that he was not welcome in Pietro’s presence.

 

“I do not eat,” Vision said, smiling at Wanda, “So it would be superfluous of me to join you. Perhaps we could go for a walk later?” he suggested.

 

Wanda was about to say something when her brother cut her off, “Wanda has an appointment with the doctor later,” he said, then began to tug her away, down towards the kitchen.

 

“I’ll see you later!” Wanda called over her shoulder before turning to berate her brother for his rudeness. Vision politely did not listen in, though he could have if he wanted to.

 

A small spark of anger lanced through him and he turned and phased through the wall. He no longer cared about politeness, for some reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest guys, I've become a bit disinterested in this story lately. I want to move on to other things and ideas, but I hate abandoning works, so I'm going to do my best to stick with it until the end. This is what I get for starting a fic with only the first half planned out.


	21. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one came surprisingly easy. I think after admitting that I no longer had any motivation for this story, my brain was all 'okay! Let's crank out the rest of this sucker and move on!'

“Wanda? Are you listening?”

 

Wanda jolted in her seat, having been lost in deep thought, “Sorry Doctor, I was thinking,” she said.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb smiled kindly, “Nothing wrong with that, but let's try and communicate these thoughts, shall we?” She sat back in her chair, “Can you tell me what has you so lost?”

 

Wanda sighed, “My brother,” she said, “I am so happy for his return, but so often I feel smothered by him. He treats me as though I am a child and he must care for me, even though we are the same age. I might even be considered older than him now, I've been living more.” She could help the spark of resentment that flared when she thought about it. 12 minutes indeed.

 

“Pietro took care of you when you were living on the streets, right?” Dr. Rosenfarb questioned, even though she knew already, “The two of you have lived in each other’s pockets for so long, independence may come slowly. You’ve had time to get used to being on your own, where Pietro has not.”

 

Wanda nodded, “I still . . .” She hesitated, “I still wish to be near him, to know that he’s alright, but at the same time I wish he would allow me some space, allow me to speak to . . . others.”

 

Dr. Rosenfarb raised a dark eyebrow, “He doesn't let you talk to other people?”

 

Wanda shrugged, “Sometimes. It depends on the person.”

 

“Which people?” Dr. Rosenfarb prompted.

 

Wanda took a moment, feeling her face heat when she only came up with one name, “Vision.”

 

Now the doctor seemed a bit pleased, “You and Vision have a close relationship, right?”

 

“I wouldn't say that,” Wanda said. Dr. Rosenfarb waited for her to continue, “But I think I would like to be close to him.”

 

Dr. Rosenfarb gave a wide grin, “That's good. It's good to start building more interpersonal relationships.”

 

Wanda smiled back, glad that she had done something right, but her mood soured quickly, “It would be better if Pietro did not seem to hate him so much.”

 

“Perhaps he’s jealous,” Dr. Rosenfarb suggested, “You've had time to get to know the rest of the team, but he has not. I suggest talking to him and encouraging him to build relationships with your other teammates.”

 

“He seems alright with the others, if distant, but with Vision he glowers and scowls like they're mortal enemies.” Wanda crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, sulking.

 

Dr. Rosenfarb smiled sympathetically, “He’s adjusting. What’s important is to not let him control your life. You may be twins, and that's sometime that will never change, but you are also both your own people. I understand it’s difficult, but you have to have patience, with him and with yourself.”

 

Wanda sighed, not feeling all that reassured. She spoke to the doctor for a few more minutes before leaving the office with promises to have patience and also talk to her brother.

 

“Wanda, let’s go watch TV.” Pietro appeared at her side, like he always did after her sessions with the doctor. He took her hand and started leading her down the hallway.

 

For a few paces, Wanda walked with him, but she stopped and dug in her heels, “I don’t want to,” she said, pulling her hand from his.

 

Pietro looked surprised, “Oh, alright. What do you want to do?” he asked, sensing that there was something wrong.

 

“I want to go for a walk,” she said, “Alone.”

 

Pietro jolted and looked hurt, “Are you sure?” he asked, “I can go with you.”

 

Wanda shook her head, “No, I need some time to think,” she said, “I want to be alone right now.”

 

Pietro backed up from where he’d taken a few steps forward, “Okay,” he said quietly, “I’ll go . . . run into the city I guess.”

 

Wanda let out a sigh and smiled at her brother, “Go watch TV with Sam and Steve and Tony. They always fight about what to watch at this time. You should get to know them better.”

 

Pietro crossed his arms, “I think I’ll pass,” he grumbled.

 

Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed the few steps to her brother’s side, “Brother, this is our home now. We have a  _ home _ ,” she stressed, “You should stop feeling so resentful of them. They’re good people.” When this didn’t seem to sway him, she switched tactics, “I trust them. Don't you trust me?”

 

“I trust you,” Pietro said quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders, “But I don't like them.”

 

Wanda pinched his ribs, making him yelp, “You don’t even know them,” she chastised, “Go watch TV with the others. At the very least, you can watch them watch TV. It’s very entertaining.”

 

Pietro huffed, “Fine. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” he asked again.

 

Wanda tried not to feel frustrated by his hovering, but it was a losing battle, “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, managing to keep her exasperation out of her voice.

 

With a few more reassurances, Pietro finally relented and left her to go to the TV room to sit with the others and Wanda was free to do as she pleased. She let out a relieved sigh and followed the maze of hallways to find herself outside, facing the expanse of forest that surrounded the compound. It was a warm, sunny day with just enough wind to keep her skin from overheating; the perfect day for a walk in the woods. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Wanda strode forward into the sunshine.

 

A sudden lurching feeling in the pit of her stomach made her stop. For a second, darkness creeped in at the edges of her vision and an oppressive feeling settled over her shoulders. Her whole body suddenly felt cold, and she could feel despair and sorrow filling her heart.

 

Reacting without thinking, Wanda lashed out with her powers. The red light struck the darkness with a hiss and the feelings receded. Wanda gasped for air, feeling like a weight had been removed from her chest. She whipped her head around, trying to find the source of the dark power she felt, but could see nothing and no one.

 

Wanda glared for a moment, trying to find something, anything, with her powers, but there was nothing. After a few minutes, she sighed and let her power fade. A trick, probably. She and Agatha had been trying to summon sprites the other day, and they were known for their mischief; perhaps a prank?

 

Deciding that there was nothing to be done for the moment, Wanda turned and continued towards the woods, still wanting to go for her walk. Maybe it was a wood sprite, and she would be able to catch it and teach it some proper manners about playing nasty tricks on unsuspecting girls.

 

Feeling better about herself, Wanda continued into the forest, certain that there was nothing that really meant her harm way out here.

 

* * *

 

Clint was drowning.

 

There was no other explanation for what was happening to him. He felt weightless, like he was floating, but there was a pressure on his shoulders and chest, squeezing the breath from him. Darkness surrounded him, sucking away any light and sound, leaving him in a black vacuum that felt like it stretched forever.

 

Clint tried to claw at the black, fight his way out, fight  _ something _ , but he couldn’t seem to move. It was useless.

 

_ You’re useless. _

 

Clint startled when eyes seemed to appear in the distance (was it the distance? He couldn’t tell). He tried to look away, to wake up (was he dreaming?), but the eyes held his gaze, not letting him go.

 

_ What did you think you were doing, joining the Avengers? _

 

The voice was like ink and fire, burning his brain wherever it came into contact. It occurred to him that he didn't have his hearing aids, so he couldn’t actually be listening to anything. Whatever this voice was, it wasn't coming from outside his head, so it had to be coming from his head.

 

_ You’re a sideshow, at best. A circus freak. You don't belong here. _

 

Clint tried to force the voice away. For a second, it felt like he was pushing against something, but the oppressive weight only doubled on his chest, making him feel like he was about to burst.

 

_ Just give up. It would be easier to give up. You could go to sleep and never have to be useless again. _

 

Sleep sounded nice actually. It would be a relief from whatever  _ this _ was.

 

_ That’s right. Sleep, Hawkeye. Sleep and let it all go away. _

 

Something was . . .  _ wrong _ with this, but Clint was so tired. He was so tired of fighting and trying to be as good as the others, when he knew it was useless. It was useless trying to pretend that he was on the same level as legends and Gods.

 

The blackness seemed to swirl around him as he felt himself sinking. The eyes glowed brighter, and now it seemed like there were right in his face. Clint felt another bubble of resistance well up in him, screaming at him to fight back at whatever was doing this, but it snapped and died almost as quickly as it came.

 

Without a sound, Clint let the darkness take him.

 

* * *

 

Something was  _ wrong _ .

 

Natasha wasn't sure what it was, but she could feel it in the air. There was something wrong with Avengers compound, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

At first, she had thought that someone had infiltrated the compound, planted spy cameras or bugs and was watching them (which Tony would scoff at, but she knew better than to dismiss it out of hand). However, as the days turned into weeks and the oppressive, ‘watched’ feeling worsened, she noticed other odd things happening as well.

 

It had started out innocuously enough, things going missing or moving without anyone owning up to having done it. Natasha had brushed it off as harmless pranks. Usually things turned up again, after a day or so, in odd spots. It was when her preferred coffee mug had been found smashed to bits in the middle of the gym floor that she had suspected something else at play.

 

Beyond that, cold spots had started appearing in the halls, especially in doorways in the east wing. Shadows seeming to come from nothing creeped at the corner of her vision. And again, the sensation of being watched by a hateful gaze followed her.

 

Natasha wasn't the only one who felt it, either. She could see the others try and brush it off, dismiss their gut instincts as oddities or just their minds playing tricks on them. Natasha herself was guilty of this, at least in the start, but she knew better now. She had seen first hand the realness of Magic and magical things, what seemed like years ago in Uzbekistan. She had seen a little girl bring her brother back from beyond the pale.

 

And now she wondered if something else hadn't come back with him.

 

Unsurprisingly (to her at least), it was Steve who seemed to catch on to the idea quickest out of all of the others. Natasha would have been surprised if she hadn't spent long nights with Steve when they were both too awake to get any rest, listening to his stories passed down from his mother. She had been born in Ireland, a culture steeped with mystic traditions and beliefs, beliefs that Steve carried with him, for all he thought most of the stories she used to tell as fairy tales.

 

In any case, she approached Steve cautiously; she knew how she would sound, belief or no belief.

 

At the moment, Steve was arguing with Sam about what to watch on TV, with Tony and Pietro spectating. Sam was arguing for a trashy soap opera and Steve wanted to watch  _ How It’s Made _ . Tony was, surprisingly, arguing for Steve’s choice, even though he loved to bash Sam’s soaps at every turn. Pietro was completely quiet, watching the others bicker from his armchair in the corner. It was the most social he’d been (when not being dragged out by his sister) since he’d come back to life.

 

Natasha watched the fight for a while, gauging the situation. When it seemed like Steve would win, she stepped in, “Isn’t it Sam’s pick anyway? He won the thing.”

 

“Holy shit yeah!” Sam lit up like fireworks, “I won the bet with the thing! Fork over the remote,” he said gleefully, holding out his hand.

 

“Traitor,” Steve grumbled in Natasha’s direction. He tossed Sam the remote and sat down on the couch to sulk. Tony patted his leg in sympathy.

 

Natasha let them sit for a few minutes before approaching Steve; placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, she gestured for him to follow her. Suddenly concerned, Steve wasted no time, following her almost at her heels into the hallway.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling the tense anxiety in the air.

 

“Something’s wrong in the compound,” Natasha said, crossing her arms, “Have you noticed?”

 

Steve shifted his weight, “Yes,” he answered, “You feel it too?”

 

“I think everyone does, but no one wants to admit what it is.” Natasha shrugged, “I'm not even sure I believe it myself.”

 

Steve grumbled, and the silence hung around them, “Let's talk to Ms. Harkness, see what she has to say,” he suggested.

 

Natasha nodded and they walked down the hallway together, aiming for the ‘prisoner’ cell that they had put the old witch in. As they passed one of the side doors leading to one of the many cross country running tracks, Natasha spotted Clint and let herself be relieved. Clint had been acting so oddly lately, sleeping most of the time and angry the rest. She was glad to see him up and going out for some fresh air; hopefully she’d be able to persuade him to eat something later.

 

She put it out of her mind for now and continued on with Steve. As much as she loved Clint, she had other things to worry about at the moment. When they finally reached the ‘cell’, they stopped for a moment to get their bearings.

 

Steve took a breath, “We’re doing this?” It wasn't really a question, but it wasn't a statement either.

 

Natasha nodded, “At least she has no right to call us crazy,” she said.

 

Steve chuckled, the tension breaking a little, “Alright, let's go.”

 

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Agatha was sitting at her table, pondering over some stones with runes gouged into them; she hardly looked up as they entered her chambers.

 

“You're not crazy,” she said, still not looking up. On the table, slightly aside from the stones, there were three cups of tea waiting, steam curling up from them.

 

Things like this used to unnerve Natasha, but over the months she’d become used to it. She sat down in one of the chairs and picked up one of the cups, Steve settling on her right (but not taking his cup, she noticed), “You’ve felt it too?” she asked.

 

Agatha hummed, “I’ve become aware of it,” she said, “I warned the girl that something nasty might come after her, but I wasn't aware that it was already here.”

 

“This has to do with Wanda?” Steve asked, brows furrowing. Ebony, Agatha’s giant cat, swatted at his shoelaces before crossing the room to disdainfully ignore them all.

 

“It’s possible that she brought something back with her brother,” Agatha explained, finally sitting back and looking up at them, “Or it might be that it was already lurking around and just needed a better foothold.”

 

“Do we know what it wants?” Steve asked.

 

“Wanda, or her power, in all likelihood,” Agatha answered with a shrug, picking up her tea and sipping at it, “She’s unique in all the universe, and it isn't surprising that others have taken notice.”

 

“How can we get rid of it?” Natasha asked, getting tired of dancing around the issue, “Whatever this is, it’s dangerous. I want it gone.”

 

Agatha smiled, “So protective,” she said, but she schooled her aged face into something more serious again, “I've been trying to figure out what’s attached itself to this place so strongly, and with such malevolence, for the last few weeks.” She nudged the stones around on the table again, frowning, “I think I know what we’re dealing with.”

 

“What is it?” Natasha asked, perhaps a bit snappishly, but she was fed up.

 

Agatha didn't seem phased at all, “We’re dealing with a demon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening folks! It's really happening!


	22. Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really pleased with my productivity you guys. I hope to get this story done in the next two weeks or so.

Steve almost couldn’t believe his ears, “A demon?” he asked, “Are you sure?”

 

Agatha nodded, “A very powerful one too,” she said.

 

“How powerful?’ Natasha demanded.

 

“It’s difficult to say,” Agatha said, frowning once more at her stones, “Certainly powerful enough to affect this world on such a level, but also powerful enough to mask its true power, if it’s smart.”

 

“If something is as powerful as you think it might be, why does it need Wanda?” Steve asked.

 

“Wanda’s powers are unique,” Agatha explained, “It’s not just magic that she’s channeling, she manipulating reality itself. Not even the most powerful demonic entities have that power. If they did, I doubt we’d all be sitting here having tea.”

 

Steve and Natasha shared a look; he realized he was probably being rude by not taking his tea and picked up the cup, but didn’t drink from it.

 

“How can we stop it?” Natasha demanded again, “There has to be something we can do.”

 

“Unfortunately, exorcisms are not my area of expertise,” Agatha said, beginning to gather up her stones, “However, I might know someone who can help.”

 

Steve leaned forward, “Who?”

 

Agatha dropped the last stone into the little felt purse and pulled the string. She drained her cup of tea and set it down, “Have either of you ever heard the name ‘Dr. Strange’?”

 

* * *

 

Vision was watching some birds through the expanse of windows to one side of the compound, calculating trajectories and aerodynamics when he noticed Clint steal into the woods. Not something that he would normally find so odd, but there was something strange about Clint.

 

There seemed to be something wrong with him, but it was nothing that Vision could place exactly. To put it simply, Clint was not moving like ‘Clint’; his stride was different, and the way he carried his shoulders was off, and he seemed to move strangely fluidly. Clint, for all of his grace, was not the smoothest of movers, a man who preferred function over form. Vision found him a fascinating man to watch, which was why he found it so jarring to see him now. He moved like a snake made of shadows, light on his feet and almost sinister. It was as though someone else was walking around in Clint’s body.

 

There was also something  _ wrong _ with him. Something fluctuated around Clint like a swarm of bees, like he was taking up more space than he was. Vision could not explain it for the life of him, but it was infinitely more interesting than the birds he’d previously been studying.

 

Phasing through the window, Vision kept his distance from Clint as he followed him through the woods. He wanted to observe for now, and he couldn't do that if the archer was alert to his presence. He kept himself intangible for the most part so as not to disturb any foliage and make noise.

 

Clint didn’t seem to be following any clear path, but it seemed like he had a destination in mind and was heading straight for it. The strange fluctuations around him pulsed and shimmered, and seemed to him almost like shadow, but not. It was fascinating, but oddly concerning. What was it? Was it harming Clint in some way? He needed to study it further.

 

* * *

 

Wanda breathed deeply, letting the smell of wood rot and the feel of the slightly damp forest surround her. It was cooler under the canopy of the forest, but she enjoyed it. She wished she could bring Agatha out with her, but she knew that the others would never allow it. The risk was simply too great, even though Wanda though it would be worth it to see her at work closer to nature.

 

A rustle behind her caused her to startle, jumping around and letting her power pool in her hand. A terrified squirrel raced up a tree and started chattering at her angrily. She laughed at herself and went to turn back to her winding path, when she spotted movement in the shadows.

 

“Who’s there?” she called, adopting a fighting stance, “Whoever you are, you do not want to mess with me.”

 

Letting her power well in her hands, she waited for the figure to step into her circle of light. She tensed as the figure came closer, but relaxed when she recognised the face.

 

“Clint, you startled me,” she chastised, letting her power go in a flash, “What are you doing out here anyway? Following me?” she asked, “I can take care of myself you know. I swear, you and Pietro are cut from the same—”

 

Wanda’s last word was cut off as Clint’s hands wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze, cutting off her air. It took a moment for her to realize what was happening before she began to struggle. She fought back against Clint with a move Natasha had taught her, jabbing her elbow into his side in a way that should have had him curling up in pain, but didn’t even move him. Wanda couldn’t even let out a whimper as Clint continued to squeeze her throat with an oddly strong grip, even for a man his size and strength.

 

Wanda let out a burst of power, the force of the energy beating against Clint’s chest so hard that she was sure she heard a rib crack, but it was as if he couldn't feel it. He was like a wall of stone.

 

Wanda looked up into Clint’s face, trying to figure out why her friend had turned on her like this. When she looked into eyes, however, she saw nothing of Clint, but a cold gaze that burned like fire. It seemed so familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it until Clint broke into a wide, unnatural grin.

 

The eyes that watched her in the darkness.

 

Wanda opened her mouth to scream, but not-Clint wrestled her to the ground and pressed her down until he was sitting on her chest, crushing the last of her air out of her. Futily, Wanda tried to summon her power again, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate enough; her vision was failing and she felt light headed. Blackness seemed to swirl around her and she almost thought it was her vision, but it came with such an oppressive feeling of despair that she knew it to be something else. She tried to fight, but she could feel herself slipping away.

 

As she was about to pass out, Wanda saw a flash of green and gold and heard a shout of rage.

 

* * *

 

Vision’s eyes could not play tricks on him, but he nearly did not believe what he was seeing. After having lost Clint for a moment, he managed to stumble upon him in a slight break in the trees. He was kneeling over something, and when Vision passed into the clearing, he could see that it was Wanda. Clint had his hands around her throat and was sitting on her chest, suffocating her. The unreality of the situation was nearly enough to make Vision pause, but he quickly sprang into action.

 

“Clint!” he shouted, charging into the fray, “Unhand her.”

 

Clint looked up, as though surprised to see him. The hesitation was enough for Vision to knock Clint away, off of Wanda. The other man rolled over the forest floor and sprang up, hissing at Vision as the synthezoid knelt over Wanda as she gagged and gasped for air.

 

The fluctuating shadow around Clint now buzzed in agitation. Wanda put her hand on Vision’s thigh to get his attention, “It’s not Clint,” she rasped, “It’s something else.”

 

Vision had less than a second to process this information before Clint lunged at him, unnaturally fast. He tackled Vision to the ground, going for his throat. Whatever this thing was, it clearly had no understanding of Vision at all.

 

Vision put his hands on Clint’s chest, phasing them into his chest cavity. Clint howled in pain and scrambled backwards with the same unnatural grace. It stood at the edge of the clearing and growled at Vision. He glanced at Wanda again, still trying to sit up and regain her bearings, but Vision placed himself in front of her protectively.

 

“Get out of the way, puppet,” Clint hissed in a voice that was not his own. It was raspy and deep, nothing like the light drawl that they had known him to use.

 

“You are not Clint Barton,” Vision said, “Release his body and leave us, or be destroyed.”

 

The thing let out a laugh, his grin splitting his face, “Oh little puppet, you have no idea what you're dealing with,” it said, “Give me the girl and you may continue your existence.”

 

“I think not,” Vision said, voice calm and steady, though he was truthfully stunted on how to proceed. Whatever this thing was, it was still inhabiting Clint’s body, and he did not know how to remove it without killing or damaging Clint further. He could see no way around this.

 

The thing grinned again and lunged for Wanda. Vision decided to throw caution to the wind and blasted Clint with the jewel on his forehead. It was only at half power and hit Clint in the shoulder, but he shrieked in pain and recoiled. His shirt burned away and his flesh sizzled, the skin bubbling and cracking.

 

Clint staggered back, hissing and growling, “You’ll pay for that, puppet,” it hissed, sliding backwards into the shadows of the forest, “For now, tell Agatha that Mephisto sends his regards.”

 

Vision made to follow him, but Wanda coughed and groaned and he turned to her, “Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling down to help her off of the forest floor.

 

“I will be, thanks to you,” Wanda rasped, rubbing her throat. Angry red marks fitted around her neck like a collar, sure to darken into deep bruises. She smiled up at him, “My brave talking toaster.”

 

Vision smiled back and gathered her into his arms, picking her up with ease, “We should return to the others and tell them what happened.”

 

Wanda nodded, sliding her arms around his shoulders. She really didn't need to, he could support her weight just fine, but Vision refrained from saying so. Instead, he tucked her close and weaved through the trees as fast as he could, watching out for any movement in the shadows.

 

Whatever it was, Vision was not going to let it get to Wanda.

 

* * *

 

Pietro jolted out of his seat. Something was very wrong.

 

“Pietro? You okay kid?” Tony asked, looking up from where he’d been tapping away on his phone. He’d initially been trash talking Sam’s soap operas, but had gotten distracted by his phone.

 

“Something is wrong,” Pietro said in lieu of answering Tony, “Wanda is in trouble.”

 

Now Sam looked up, “What makes you say that?” he asked.

 

Pietro didn’t have time to elaborate as the lights flickered above them. Tony raised an eyebrow, “That’s weird, I—”

 

Suddenly, the light bulbs burst in their sockets, sending sparks and shards in every direction. The TV fuzzed out before exploding in a plume of smoke and flying glass. Anything electrical suddenly shorted out; Tony let out a yelp as his phone burned his hand. Sam vaulted over the couch, dragging Tony along by the collar to shield him from the worst of it. Pietro zipped to the far corner, away from the worst of it.

 

It was over as quickly as it began, leaving only the carnage behind. The TV smoked pitifully and Tony’s phone hissed as it melted into the carpet. The minifridge in the corner made odd groaning noises until the door burst open with a pop, more smoke billowing out into the room.

 

“Everybody okay?” Sam called, standing up cautiously, “Nobody’s hurt?”

 

“What the fuck was  _ that _ ?” Tony coughed, fanning away the smoke as best he could with his hands, “Seriously,  _ what the fuck _ ?”

 

“Power surge?” Sam suggested, helping Tony to his feet, “Watch the glass.”

 

Tony snorted, “A power surge? On my generators? You're out of your mind if you think something like a power surge could do something like this to  _ my _ systems,” he rambled as he got to to his feet, “Plus, you think a power surge could do  _ that _ to a wireless device?” Tony gestured to what was once his phone burning a hole in the carpet.

 

Sam didn't have anything to say as Pietro picked his way across the carpet, avoiding the glass, “We should check on the others,” he said, though he was thinking mostly of his sister.

 

“Good idea,” Sam said. The three of them made their way out of the TV room to see that the whole compound had been effected. Glass from the fluorescent bulbs in the halls ways was everywhere, and anything electrical was sparking or melting.

 

“Do we know where everyone is?” Sam asked as they traversed the halls, glad crunching under their shoes.

 

“Wanda went outside, she wanted to go for a walk,” Pietro explained. He was itching to run off and find her, but he was compelled to stay with the others until he was sure no one was hurt, or else he would never hear the end of it from his sister.

 

“Nat and Steve disappeared after the show started. No idea where they are,” Sam said, “Clint is probably in his room, and I have no idea where Vision disappeared to. It's past six, so the staff has all gone home."

 

Tony went a sickly pale, “Rhodey said he was going to be in the armoury cleaning out his shoulder gun.” The armoury was practically bathed in electricity, all sorts of gadgets and panels that probably exploded when the rest of the compound blew. If he didn't get clear in time . . . 

 

“Armoury first,” Sam said, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He turned to Pietro, “Run ahead of us and see if he’s okay.”

 

Pietro nodded, deciding that there was a time and a lace to balk at being ordered around, “I'll go,” he said, and zipped off.

 

The armoury was indeed a mess; smoke hung around the room, making it hard to see, but the damage was clear. All of the electrical panels were either blown right out of their mounts or smoldering. The armour cases looked like they had been exploded from the inside, while the armours themselves, both Rhodey’s grey and silver War Machine and Tony’s red and gold Iron Man, looked a bit scorched, but otherwise intact. Pietro scanned the wreckage as best he could through the smoke for some sign of life.

 

A groan drew his attention. Huddled underneath an overturned table, pushed right against the wall, something moved. Pietro ran over and peered under the table, “Colonel Rhodes? Are you hurt?”

 

Rhodey's grunted and shifted onto his side so he could breath better, “Think I bashed my head and blacked out a little, but I don't think anything’s broken,” he said.

 

Pietro gingerly lifted the table off of him, careful not to disturb anything else that might still be volatile. Rhodey had a three inch long gash running from his eyebrow into his scalp which was bleeding quite a lot, but otherwise looked alert and unharmed. Pietro offered his hand to help the man up.

 

Rhodey gratefully took it and hoisted himself to his feet, “Do we know what happened?” he asked, surveying the damage.

 

Pietro shook his head, “No clue. Wilson and Stark sent me down here for you.”

 

Rhodey hummed contemplatively, “Come on, they’ll be worried about us,” he said, pushing Pietro to walk ahead of him.

 

They managed to pick their way out of the armoury just as Sam and Tony found them. Pietro was a little startled to see the naked relief on Tony’s face when he saw that his friend was alright, if a little scuffed. He darted forward to embrace his friend tightly, hands fisting his shirt.

 

“I’m good man, I'm good,” Rhodey assured him, hugging him back just as tight.

 

They separated after a moment, sensing that now wasn't the time, “We have to find Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Vision,” Tony said, “We don’t know where they are.”

 

“I can run through the compound and look,” Pietro offered, “It would take me less than a minute.”

 

The other three men looked at each other, “Alright, but be careful,” Sam said, “We don't know if whatever did this is still lurking around or not.”

 

Pietro nodded, “I'll be quick,” he said with a grin. He was about to run off when Tony caught his arm.

 

“Seriously kid, if you spot something, don't try and take it on yourself,” he said, “You’ve got powers, fine, but we’ve got several times the experience. You see something, get your ass out of there.” He still looked quite pale, and Pietro noticed the burn on his hand from the melted phone, “Don't do that to your sister, you hear?”

 

Pietro blinked, oddly touched by the older man’s concern, “I won't,” he promised. Tony searched his eyes for a moment longer, squeezing his arm once for reassurance and then stepping back to give him room.

 

Pietro turned from them and raced through the halls of the compound. The sooner he found the other four, the sooner he could start looking for his sister.

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck was that?”

 

Natasha huffed and slid out from under Steve’s bulk. When the light bulbs had started bursting, Steve had reacted faster than she had and thrown himself overtop of the two women, using his body to shield them from the flying glass and shower of sparks. Ever the self sacrificing idiot.

 

“Language,” Natasha groaned, getting to her feet.

 

“Is now really the time?” Steve grumbled, helping Agatha up, “Are you hurt?”

 

“I’m alright dear, thank you,” Agatha said, brushed dust from her long skirt, “We’d better find the others.”

 

“Right,” Steve said. The door was fried shut from the electrical lock, but he easily pried it open.

 

They stepped out into the ruined hallway, “Tony is going to pitch a fit,” Natasha said, looking around at the damage.

 

“You don’t think he’s hurt, do you?” Steve asked, worry etching itself across his face.

 

“Tony has an unnatural ability to both attract trouble while simultaneously slipping out of it unscathed,” Natasha said, “I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

Steve didn’t look convinced, but it was a moot point, they had to go looking for the others anyway, “Let’s start with the TV room,” he said.

 

They picked their way through the halls carefully, avoiding anything that was sparking or leaking or melting, “What do you think did this?” Steve asked as they passed yet another blown out control panel.

 

“Electrical surge?” Natasha suggested.

 

Steve scoffed, “Please, like Tony’s system could fail this badly.”

 

Natasha rolled her eyes as Agatha said, “It was the demon.”

 

They glanced back at her, “Are you certain?” Steve asked. It felt like they were going in circles.

 

“Yes. Something must have attacked it, or angered it,” Agatha explained. She looked at another panel, this one oozing melted plastic all over the floor, “I’m afraid this creature is much more powerful than I realized.”

 

Natasha didn’t like the sound of that, but they pressed on without saying anything. They reached the TV room just as a blue blur whizzed passed them. Natasha barely had time to register the wind on her face when Pietro backtracked and appeared right in front of them.

 

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

 

“We’re fine. Where are the others?” Steve asked.

 

“Last I checked Stark, Wilson, and Rhodes were trying to get out to the front entrance,” Pietro said, “They sent me to look for you.”

 

“And the others?” Natasha asked, “Vision? Wanda? Clint?”

 

Pietro shook his head, “Not here. Wanda went out into the woods for a walk, and I haven’t come across the other two.”

 

Steve frowned, “Keep looking, we’ll head outside and join the others. Be careful,” he ordered.

 

Pietro nodded and ran off into the building, sending the lingering smoke curling in his wake. Natasha took a deep breath and started down the hall, the other two following shortly behind her. A dark shadow moved and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but it was only Ebony, Agatha’s cat, trotting along and looking strangely unaffected by the carnage around them.

 

They finally managed to get outside of the building and saw the other three sitting a ways from the entrance. Tony was fussing over Rhodey, who had a nasty looking gash on his head, but otherwise they looked uninjured.

 

“Steve!” Tony called, getting up and leaving Rhodey to fend for himself (he seemed to have things well in hand anyway), “You guys hurt?”

 

Steve ran a few paces to meet Tony halfway, “We’re all fine. You?” he asked, visibly worried.

 

“Rhodey sliced his head open, but we’re fine,” Tony said, “You sure you're all okay?”

 

Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes and walked over to Rhodey, who was sitting calmly while pressing a gauze pad to his head, “Those two are so obvious,” she said as she knelt down to inspect the cut.

 

“You’re telling me,” Rhodey scoffed, “Couldn’t be more obvious if they wore neon signs.”

 

Natasha grinned, “Ten bucks says Steve makes the first move.”

 

Rhodey laughed, “That’s a suckers bet. You’re on.”

 

Natasha chuckled and looked up just as Vision came rushing out of the trees, Wanda cradled in his arms.

 

* * *

 

“Wanda has been attacked!” Vision called as he emerged from the forest and saw the others out on the lawn. It seemed they were not the only ones who had been having a bad day.

 

“What happened?” Steve asked, reaching them first.

 

Vision set Wanda down on the grass, “Clint attacked her.”

 

“What?” Natasha asked, incredulous, “Are you sure?”

 

“No!” Wanda coughed, trying to sit up, “It wasn’t Clint. It was something else.”

 

“Lay back down, child,” Agatha admonished, pressing on the girl’s shoulder, “Let’s have a look at the throat.”

 

“Wanda!” Pietro appeared at her side, nearly barreling over Agatha, “What happened!? What hurt you!?” he started babbling in his native tongue, despite Wanda’s attempts to calm him.

 

“Vision,” Steve said, turning to the synthezoid, “Start talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to keep going, but I realized how long it was getting and figured there was fine place to stop.


	23. Rat Bazooka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot that I had finished this chapter like a week ago. Oops. I think it's because I didn't have an internet connection at the time and couldn't post this here and started working on the next chapter right away.

After a brief run down of the situation on all sides, Tony decided that the whole lot of them had gone crazy.

 

“So, let me get this straight,” he said, pacing and waving his hands around, “When Wanda brought her brother back from the dead, some kind of entity we’re calling a ‘demon’ hitched a ride and now wants to take a bite out of her power. It’s been responsible for all the weird shit that’s been happening around the compound, and now it’s possessed Clint and attacked Wanda. When Vision smacked the hell out of it, it got pissy and blew the hell out of the compound in retaliation. Am I understanding this correctly?”

 

“That’s about the large and small of it,” Steve said, helping support Wanda as they wrapped cold compresses around her throat. The angry red marks were deepening into dark purple bruises that were painful just to look at.

 

“I see,” Tony said, “Well, in that case, I’m going to go over here and freak the fuck out.”

 

“Sit your ass down, spaz,” Rhodey said, “A few months ago Wanda yanked her brother’s soul back into his body. A few years ago, an Asgardian God rained aliens down on New York from a portal in the sky. We  _ personally know _ the God of thunder. This is just another in the long list of weird shit we deal with.”

 

Tony threw his hands up, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that  _ demons _ had become part of the daily routine. Were they supposed to be penciled in before or after lunch?”

 

“Tony,” Steve said, “We’re all a little high strung right now. Maybe you should sit down?” he suggested.

 

Tony didn't feel like sitting down, he felt like running for the hills. However, he couldn't leave his friends in the state they were in. He paced for a few more minutes before blurting out, “I’m going to see if I can get in touch with the Tower.”

 

“The Tower?” Sam asked.

 

“In New York. We can’t stay here,” he gestured to the compound, “I’m going to see if there’s a working phone or car somewhere that can get us there.”

 

Plan in mind, Tony turned and all but ran towards the garage. It was on a separate power grid from the the rest of the compound, so there was a chance that it had been spared from blowing up with the rest of the place.

 

It hadn’t, but the damage was a lot less than the carnage that the compound had faced. Most of the car batteries had been fried, but some were still functional. The only vehicle large enough to transport them all, a van that Tony thought belonged to Clint, was not among those spared, but he was Tony Stark, and it was easy to switch out the old battery for one that worked.

 

“Tony?” came Steve’s voice, “Everything okay?”

 

“Just fine,” Tony called, “Tinkering.”

 

Steve wandered over to where Tony was working, “Need any help?”

 

“No, I’ve got it,” Tony snapped, instantly regretting it, “Sorry. Actually, could you hold the light up so I can see better?”

 

Steve didn’t seem offended by Tony’s behavior, “Sure, like this?” he asked, holding up the flashlight that Tony had managed to fish up.

 

“Perfect thank you,” Tony mumbled, fixating on his work, “How’s Wanda?”

 

“Throat’s sore, but otherwise she seems fine,” Steve said, “Natasha is stitching Rhodey up.”

 

“Good,” Tony said, “She’s got steady hands.”

 

“She’s worried about Clint,” Steve said, and Tony could hear the frown in his voice, “We don't know how this will affect him, or if he’s even still alive in there.”

 

“He’s still in there,” Tony said, “This isn’t the first time his body has been hijacked. He’ll pull through.”

 

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, I guess you're right,” he said. He didn't say that this was nothing like what happened with Loki. Loki had taken over his brain, sure, but from what Agatha had been saying, Clint’s whole being had been overtaken, and they had no way of knowing if he was still inside.

 

Steve didn’t say anything though, just kept the light steady so Tony could work.

 

* * *

 

After a bit of fussing and swearing, the van was up and running and they were piling into it. Sam took the driver’s seat while the rest situated themselves in the back, with Agatha up front riding shotgun (it didn't seem fair to squash a little old lady in with the rest of them).

 

To save space, Vision and Pietro were running and flying next to the van, respectively, keeping pace on the way into the city. They were also both keeping a lookout for Clint, wary of any more attacks.

 

They arrived at the Tower without any more incidents though, and went straight up to the penthouse. Tony went straight to a control panel and activated the security.

 

“So? What’s the plan?” Sam asked, flopping down on the couch exhaustedly.

 

“We have to exorcise the demon out of Clint,” Steve said, as though it were obvious, “Preferably before anyone else gets hurt.”

 

“There’s a man in Greenwich who can help us,” Agatha said, “A man by the name of Doctor Stephen Strange.”

 

“Dr. Strange huh?” Tony said, “Certainly sounds like a guy who exorcises demons for a living.”

 

“Actually, Dr. Strange received his medical degree in neurosurgery,” Natasha chipped in. When the others stared, she shrugged, “He was on SHIELD's list of ‘interesting persons’. I saw his file.”

 

“Alright then, does he have a phone number?” Steve asked, handing Wanda a glass of water.

 

“Here.” Agatha produced a card from seemingly nowhere, “Use this.”

 

Natasha took the card and flipped it over in her hand; on one side, there was a number, and on the other was a strange eye symbol. She stood and left the room to make the call.

 

“Strange residence,” a lightly accented voice answered, “May I ask how you came by this number?”

 

“A witch gave it to me,” Natasha answered, “We need help with a demon exorcism.”

 

“I see,” the voice said, entirely unfazed, “I’ll have the Doctor sent over right away.”

 

“Would you like the address?” Natasha asked.

 

The voice on the other end chuckled, “We already know the address, Miss Romanov. The Doctor will be with you shortly.” The line went dead and Natasha decided she was too tired to think on it anymore.

 

“He’s on his way,” she told the others, crossing to the kitchen in the next room over, “Anyone else want something to drink?”

 

“There’s no booze in the tower,” Tony reminded her from where he’d flopped over on the couch, arm over his eyes.

 

“There’s coffee and hot chocolate,” Natasha said, “I’m making both.”

 

A round of murmurs informed her that coffee and hot chocolate would be well appreciated. She was just finishing pouring out some mugs when FRIDAY announced, “Your guest has arrived.”

 

“Let him up. Security override, Stark zero one zero,” Tony said, sitting up to receive his coffee, “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t get used to it,” Natasha told him, “I’m not your PA anymore.”

 

Tony scoffed, “Honey, you were the worst PA I ever had.”

 

Natasha chuckled and handed off the last of the mugs to Sam when a man swept into the room. She was perfectly comfortable using the word ‘swept’ because he was wearing a full length red cape, with a high, stiff collar.

 

“Good evening,” he said in a rich baritone, “I’m Doctor Strange. I hear you’ve been having some trouble with a demon.”

 

* * *

 

“Ah, Agatha,” Dr. Strange hummed after they had all made their introductions, extending his hand to the old woman, “I was wondering which witch it was that had given my calling card to the Avengers. How have you been my dear?”

 

Agatha chuckled and set her hand in his, which he kissed delicately, “Ever the charmer, Stephen,” she hummed, “Sorry I couldn't call on you for more plesant business.”

 

“Not at all, my dear,” Strange said, “It’s been a quiet few weeks. Nothing like an exorcism to fend off boredom.”

 

“If you’re done flirting,” Tony cut in, “We have a demon that needs exorcising, so chop chop.”

 

Strange sighed and cast a withering look at Tony, “It’s not exactly that simple, I’m afraid,” he said, not acknowledging Tony’s rudeness, “Firstly, I’ll need a better understanding of the situation.”

 

Steve took a deep breath and gave him the basic rundown of what had happened, “Can you help?” he asked at the end.

 

Strange looked contemplative, “I believe I can,” he said. He turned to Wanda, who was sitting next to her brother on one of the couches, “I’d heard about the girl who brought her brother back from the dead, but I hadn’t thought she was with the very same girl on the Avengers team.” He held out his hand, “May I?”

 

Wanda, curled into her brother’s side, looked to Agatha, then Natasha. Steeling herself, she stood and walked over to Strange, Pietro on her heels. She put her hand in Strange’s, palm up, and he inspected it.

 

“Fascinating,” he said, “My dear, I think you have the most unique set of powers I have ever encountered.”

 

“Thank you,” Wanda rasped, throat still raw from the attack. Strange glanced up from her hand and looked at the deep bruises on her throat; he frowned and reached one hand to tilt her chin up to get a better look.

 

“You said the demon possessed your friend?” he asked, more to the room at large than any one person, “Your friend is quite strong on his own?”

 

“He’s an archer, he’s got a strong grip,” Natasha said, “But he’d never hurt anyone like this.”

 

“He was also resistant to pain,” Vision said, “Or at least to some pain. Wanda fought him, but it took a lot for him to release her.”

 

“I broke his rib, but he didn’t react,” Wanda said, “Not until Vision fought him.”

 

Strange ‘hummed’, “He probably expected to encounter your power and guarded himself appropriately, but wasn’t expecting you.” He turned to Vision, “You’re very difficult to see, in a mystic sense.”

 

“Difficult to see?” Vision asked, “I’m not sure I understand.”

 

Strange waved him off, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain when this is over,” he said, “Now, we’re going to have to capture your friend. I need him to physically be here if I want to get the demon out of him.”

 

“He disappeared into the woods,” Wanda said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“That’s quite alright my dear,” Strange said with a sympathetic pat to her shoulder, “I’m sure you had other things on your mind at the moment.”

 

“So what do we do? Tromp through the woods until he jumps out and tries to kill us?” Tony asked, “Not my idea of a fun weekend, let me tell you.”

 

Strange rolled his eyes, but again ignored Tony, “Do you remember if there were any marks on your friend? Anything that was out of the ordinary? It might help figure out what kind of demon it is.”

 

Wanda shook her head, “I didn’t get a good look. All I remember was dreaming about yellow eyes in the darkness.”

 

“Hm, that narrows it down to roughly two thirds of all the different kinds of demons,” Strange said. He turned to Vision, “Did you notice anything?”

 

“What’s so important about the type of demon?” Tony asked, slightly fed up with being ignored, “Can’t you just zap the thing right out of Clint and be done with it?”

 

Strane finally turned to him, “It’s for the same reason you don’t use a bazooka to exterminate rats. Too much power and you’ll do more damage than you need to.”

 

“There were no visible markings,” Vision said, “But it did give me a name.”

 

“It gave you it’s name? Excellent,” Strange smiled, “We’re in luck. Having its name will help us greatly.”

 

“It’s said, ‘Mephisto sends his regards’,” Vision said. At the expression on Strange’s face, he balked, “What? What is it.”

 

Strange put his fingers to his temple, “It seems like we’re going to need a bazooka after all.”

 

* * *

 

“I need to go to church more,” Steve groaned.

 

Tony looked up, “What makes you say that?”

 

The expression on Steve’s face spoke volumes, “Right yes,” Tony said, “All of the demonic possession by a king of hell,” he said, then amended, “Sorry, the king of  _ a  _ hell, because there are apparently lots of those.”

 

“There are probably some good Catholic Churches in the city. I should take another look at Brooklyn and find a nice little one,” Steve muttered to himself.

 

Strange had gone back to his home in Greenwich to gather supplies and consult some friends that he knew, tagging Agatha along with him. He'd offered to bring Wanda along, but the girl had only clung to her brother and refused to go anywhere. Now, the rest of them were waiting inside the tower, hoping that Dr. Strange returned with good news. Most of the others had gone to get some sleep, but Tony and Steve had volunteered to stay awake and keep an eye out, just in case Clint/Mephisto tried to break in. So the two of them were sitting side by side on the couch, flicking through the security feeds.

 

“There are lots of Catholic Churches around.” Tony tapped away at the screen in front of him, “They're all over the city.”

 

Steve looked over at him, “Do you ever go?” he asked.

 

Tony couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, “No, never. Not since I was a kid and my mom dragged me out to the service,” he said, “I never really liked it. It never made any sense to me, even as a kid.”

 

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, it doesn't always make sense to me either,” he said, but then he got quiet, “But it was never really about that. For me it was always about having faith.”

 

Tony hummed softly, slumping over to lean against Steve’s bulk, “Man’s met two Gods, and he’s still a Christian.”

 

Steve laughed, the sound odd and sharp after the day they'd had, “Says the atheist.” He wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulders rubbing his back gently.

 

Tony couldn't help the small moan that escaped his lips, “Science I haven't figured out yet,” he protested, closing his eyes. Just for a moment couldn't hurt.

 

Steve hummed, “Let me know when you do,” he said, quietly, like he didn't want to disturb Tony.

 

Tony might a have mumbled something, but honestly he was too tired and wrung out from the day to tell. He was comfortably drifting off to sleep when his phone (one of his phones that he'd left in the tower) started trilling at him.

 

Groaning, Tony sat up and snatched the little device off the coffee table. After warring with his desire to just throw the phone at the wall, he tapped the screen and saw that it was Pepper calling.

 

“Shit, I better take this.” He got up and wandered over to a more secluded alcove to take the call, “Hey Pepper.”

 

“Tony? What happened? I just got a notification from FRIDAY that the Avengers compound is completely dark and that you're at the tower. Is everything okay?” Pepper immediately started interrogating him.

 

Tony sighed deeply and and rubbed his eyes with the hand not holding the phone, “Okay, you got a half an hour?”

 

Tony went through the basics of the situation, trying to explain the fantastical elements as best he could without making it sound like he was off to the nuthouse.

 

“And now we're waiting for the wizard to get back with supplies for the exorcism.” So maybe he wasn't very good at explaining things. He was tired, sue him.

 

“Tony, that’s . . .” Pepper trailed off, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

Tony smiled, “Beautiful, sweet Pepper,” he sighed, “As much as I would love to have you organizing this whole shindig, I don't think this is your area of expertise,” he said, “Plus,” he continued with a more serious tone, “I don't want you getting hurt. I know it sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, but this stuff actually looks dangerous. You should see the bruises on Wanda’s neck.” He glanced at his hand, eyeing the nasty looking burn that Steve had convinced him to put some ointment on.

 

“I’m going to have some supplies sent over,” Pepper said, “Just some of the regular things to restock the Tower.” Toy could hear her tapping away at something, probably a tablet, “Some food, medical supplies, stuff like that. I'll also notify the NYPD to not approach Clint if they spot him. This doesn't seem like something they want to get caught in.”

 

Tony felt a genuine, heartfelt smile break out across his face, “You are the perfect woman,” he said.

 

“I know.” Pepper sounded much too smug, “But be careful, okay? I know we're not together anymore, but I do love you and I don't want you to get hurt.”

 

“I'll be alright Pepper,” Tony said, “I'm too stubborn to die.”

 

“God,” Pepper laughed, though it sounded watery, “Don't I know it.”

 

Tony chuckled, “Thank you Pepper. We’ll be alright.” God he hoped he was telling the truth.

 

“You better. Do you have any idea how much paperwork I’m going to have to fill out when you die?”

 

Tony snorted, “Love that that’s a ‘when’ instead of an ‘if’.”

 

“Just being realistic,” Pepper said, “That being said, try to postpone it as long as possible.”

 

“You're the boss, boss,” Tony said, “I should let you go, I'm on guard duty with Stars and Stripes.”

 

“Hm, well, have fun.” The smugness was back.

 

“I hate that you figured it out before me,” Tony grumbled.

 

“Oh Tony,” Pepper said, “Tony, Tony,  _ Tony _ . One day, when you're old enough, you'll finally understand how people work.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“I love you too. Have fun with Steve.” And the line went dead before Tony could properly cuss at her (not that he would, he loved her very much and she was terrifying).

 

Grumbling, Tony stowed his phone and trodden back to where Steve was still sitting, cycling though the feeds. He looked up at Tony’s return, “Who was that?” he asked.

 

“Telemarketer,” Tony said, flopping back down next to Steve on the couch. He let himself hope that he would rub his back again. That had been nice.

 

* * *

 

Pietro was holding her too tightly, but Wanda couldn't bring herself to ask him to stop. She could hardly breathe, her face was pressed so tightly to his chest. Her throat hurt, but she didn't want to go get a glass of water. She wanted to stay in her brothers’ arms for the rest of her life.

 

“We could still run,” Pietro said quietly, as though reluctant to break the silence that had surrounded them for what seemed like hours, “Surely it couldn’t follow us across the globe.”

 

Wanda let out a long groan; finally, she pulled herself away enough to speak, “No, we can't abandon our friends.”

 

“Your friends,” Pietro corrected, “They don't like me.”

 

“They like you, they just don't know you yet,” Wanda said, “You won't let them.”

 

Pietro didn't say anything, only buried his face into her hair, “We could still go.”

 

“We  _ can't _ .” Wanda pulled away and put her hand on Pietro’s chest, over his heart, “I did this. I need to help fix it.”

 

Pietro looked down at her throat, “He nearly killed you.”

 

The bruises throbbed; Wanda swore they hurt more than normal bruises, “I'll be prepared this time, and I won't be alone or caught off guard.”

 

Pietro looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew better. Wanda had made up her mind, and she wasn't going to leave the Avengers now, “Why do you care for them so much?” he asked.

 

Wanda blinked, caught off guard by the question, “I don't really know,” she admitted, “But they didn’t abandon me, so I'm not going to do the same to them. They took me in, treated me like family, and never once asked for anything in return.” She paused, “They took care of me, when you weren’t here, and now I owe it to them to do the same.”

 

Pietro watched his sister for a long, tense moment, wondering when his little sister grew up, “So we stay,” he finally agreed.

 

“We stay. They’re our family now,” Wanda said. Pietro nodded and gathered her back into his arms. She had just settled down when a knock came at the door.

 

Thinking it might be Strange having returned from his home, she sat up, “It’s open,” she called.

 

Vision phased through the door, “Wanda, I would like to have a word with you,” he said, “Privately if possible.”

 

Wanda felt her brother tighten his hold on her, but she took a deep breath and pulled herself from his grip, “Alright,” she said, getting up off the bed and crossing to take Vision’s arm instead, “Let’s walk.”

 

“Wanda?” Pietro called, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a little concerned and lost.

 

Wanda smiled at him, hoping to reassure him, “I won't be long,” she promised, “I'll be just fine.”

 

Pietro looked like he wanted to pull her back, and his muscles tensed as though he was about to, but he stopped and sat back, “Okay,” he said, “Okay.”

 

Wanda smiled again and gave him a nod. Even with all that had happened, they were still taking steps in the right direction. She squeezed Vision’s arm and they left the room together (using the door properly this time. She should have a conversation with him about proper door etiquette).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The break right where Dr. Strange enters is a little jarring, but I couldn't figure out how to get it to work the way I wanted it to. It feels like it should be the beginning of a new chapter, but it would be too short. :/


	24. A Lovely Day for a Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this out surprisingly fast. I've been really distracted all day by BatFam domestic fanfic. I usually don't go for DC, but a friend got me hooked and now I'm trash for it. Avenge me.

Vision had intended to speak with Wanda as soon as possible, to be as efficient as possible and because he felt like his chest would burst open if he kept it to himself for a moment longer (a ridiculous notion, but an apt metaphor). However, by the time they had reached privacy, Vision had found himself silent, simply enjoying Wanda’s company. As with all things about her, it was inexplicable that he should both want to talk to her and get it done as soon as possible, while simultaneously wanting to prolong their time together. A mystery he was sure to never unravel.

 

“Vihz?” Wanda said finally, looking up at him, “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

 

‘Busted’, as they say.

 

“I wanted to see if you were alright,” he lied, be he didn't think he did a good job of it.

 

Wanda wrinkled her nose at him, but she was smiling, “You already knew I was alright. You're the one who saved me.”

 

“Yes,” Vision agreed, “I thought I would check again.”

 

Wanda giggled, “Silly talking toaster,” she said, snuggling back into his arm.

 

“You only do this with me or your brother,” he blurted out before he fully realized what he was saying.

 

“Do what?” Wanda asked, raising a dark brow.

 

“Cling to our arms like this,” Vision explained, “Though you are close to the other Avengers, especially Natasha, you do not grab their arms in this manner. It is perplexing.”

 

Wanda looked startled and slightly upset; to Vision’s dismay, she started to let go, “I’m sorry. I did not know it bothered you so much.”

 

Vision caught her hand before she could retract it completely, “I did not say that it bothered me, only that it perplexed me. The verbs are similar, but the connotation is different. I—” he hesitated, “I would like it if you continued to hold onto me like this.”

 

The surprise stayed where it was, but the dismay melted from Wanda’s face, replaced by a bright smile. Wanda repositioned herself once again on Vision’s arm, not mentioning it when he didn't remove his hand from overtop hers.

 

“I did wish to speak with you about something,” Vision admitted.

 

“Oh really?” Wanda hummed, “What might that be?”

 

Vision stopped them in front of one of the large windows that overlooked the city. He remembered this view from the same night he had been born. The movies he had watched about romance suggested that this was an ideal spot for what he was about to confess.

 

“Wanda,” he said, her name rolling off of his tongue so wonderfully, “These last few weeks, I've been contemplating my existence. I am not human, though I have the approximate appearance. Yet I think, and I feel,” he said, staring down into her eyes, “Today, when I saw you being attacked, I felt for you, Wanda. I felt as if I would die if you died.” He reached out and brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing her bruised neck. He let his hand linger over her skin, entranced by the warmth, “I came to realize, in that moment, that my emotions run deeper for you than they do anyone else in this universe.”

 

“Vision,” Wanda whispered, bringing her hand up to run her fingertip along the outside of his hands.

 

“Wanda,” Vision said, bringing his other hand up to cup her face gently, “I am new to life and to emotions, but I assure you, I know what I feel. I do not want you to think that this is an infatuation, or a different kind of admiration. I believe I might love you, for all that that is worth.” He took a few paces back, though it pained him to distance himself from her so, “If you do not feel the same, I understand. I won’t pressure you. I just . . . I wanted you to know.”

 

Wanda looked stunned. She stayed still for several moments, mouth moving as though she were trying to speak, but the words would come. Vision did not get ‘tense’ the way humans did, but he could understand the feeling in that moment. He waited, both dreading and anticipating her response.

 

Then, Wanda smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back.

 

“You are a ridiculous talking toaster,” she said, stepping close to him, “But I think . . . I think I feel deeply for you as well.” This last utterance came as a near-whisper.

 

Vision felt as though the core of his being would overheat and his muscles were vibrating, “Wanda,” he said, just as quiet as she, “I would very much like to kiss you.”

 

Wanda didn't bother with affirmations, and simply wrapped her arms around Vision’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him. Vision bent to meet her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and pulling her close. He could feel every thread in her dress pressing against him, and the heat of her body through her clothes. The sensation of her lips over his was intoxicating; he felt as though he could stay this way forever.

 

Despite the feeling, they eventually broke apart, but kept their faces close. Vision could see her pupils dilate, the rich brown irises giving way to black, like a black hole swallowing the light around it. She blinked and the delicate fan of her eyelashes rested on her smooth, lightly brown cheek for a millisecond. Vision could see the variations in colour of her skin, freckles and differentiations of pigment distribution and sun exposure. If he had an hour, he could name them all. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers, careful not to jab her with the gem.

 

“If you would allow it, I would stay by your side, for always,” he said, the words coming out as nearly a breath.

 

“For always,” Wanda agreed, closing her eyes and nuzzling into him.

 

Vision smiled and leaned in for another kiss, catching her by surprise and causing her to giggle into it. He laughed a little as well, tugged along by her amusement. He loved the sound of her laughter, but he thought he might like the sound of their laughs mixed together even more.

 

* * *

 

Clint felt like he was swimming in hot wax, sluggish and slowly solidifying. He tried to open his eyes; everything ached and he wanted to wake up.

 

_ Stubborn, aren’t you? Go to sleep. _

 

That . . . sleep sounded nice, but there was something wrong.

 

_ The only thing wrong is you. Useless. No good to anyone. _

 

Clint let out what felt like a sigh (was he breathing?), beginning to drift down, back into the abyss, when flashes of images crossed his mind. Wanda’s eyes looking up at him in fear, his own hands around her throat. Vision cold gaze as he attacked. The image was so jarring that he felt some of the wax peel away, the darkness cracking and letting in some light.

 

_ Stop that! _

 

Wanda. He had to get to Wanda. He had to make sure she was okay. If she was hurt because of him—

 

_ Yes, because of you. You hurt her. _

 

No, that was wrong. He didn’t—

 

_ You hurt her. You wanted to  _ **_kill_ ** _ her. Like you killed her brother. _

 

That was an accident. The line of duty.

 

_ You pulled children into a war. You had him killed. It’s your fault. You do nothing but hurt those around you. Worthless.Useless.  _ **_Murderer_ ** _. _

 

The darkness closed back around Clint and he felt himself sinking once more into the nothingness. There was still something  _ wrong _ about this whole thing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

* * *

 

Pietro paced when he was nervous. It was a nervous thing he had done since childhood, but after he’d come into his powers, he had to remember to be careful, lest he wear literal holes in the floors. Now, he was too stressed to think about the floor, all of his thoughts were consumed by his sister and what might happen to her.

 

It was silly, he knew logically. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he didn’t care. He had nearly lost her today, and he didn’t think he could stand not knowing where she was. Only the gentle press every few minutes on his mind kept him from running after her. Even then, he could tell that Wanda was only really doing it for his benefit. Despite their shared anxiety, Wanda was better at pushing it away when she wanted to. She could focus on other things for longer. Pietro could only think of her.

 

Shaking his head fast enough to cause a rush of air around the room, Pietro finally gave in and went to the door. He had to find his sister.

 

It only took him a moment to find her, pressed close to the robot. The sight made him stop, confused for a moment. He thought for one heartstopping second that Wanda had collapsed, but he saw that she was holding on to the taller robot tightly. They were . . .

 

Pietro stomped down on the urge to separate them. To run over and shout that Wanda was  _ his _ sister and that Vision couldn't take her. He stopped himself just in time.

 

_ What happens when we’re older? When we have families of our own? Get a bed big enough for four? _

 

Wanda’s words rattled around in his head like hot stones. As much as he hated it, she was right and he couldn't do this. He couldn't keep her from her life. He wanted to put his fist through the robot’s chest, but she looked so happy with him. She was smiling up at him in a way that Pietro had never seen before. He’d never seen her look like that, not even with him.

 

Feeling a little sick, Pietro turned and went back to his room. He suddenly felt like he was intruding, a foreign feeling when it came to his sister. They had shared everything up until this point.

 

They had found something that they could never share.

 

It wasn't really a long time before Wanda returned to their room, but it felt like hours to him. His stomach felt like it was in knots, stressing over whether Wanda would even come back to him.

 

But she did, looking more relaxed than she had in weeks. The bruises on her neck were still ugly, but there was colour in her cheeks and her eyes were bright and alive. It was jarring to see her like this, and  _ knowing _ that it was the robot’s doing.

 

Wanda ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, “See? I’m fine,” she said, smiling at him.

 

Pietro relaxed a little; no matter what, they were twins, and nothing would change that. He glanced up to see Vision retreating away from them, “Wait,” he called.

 

Both Vision and Wanda stalled at that, unused to hearing him speak to Vision without malice. Vision turned back to him, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to continue.

 

“Thank you,” Pietro forced out, “For saving her,” he clarified, “If you hadn’t been there . . .” Pietro squeezed Wanda slightly, “Thank you.”

 

Vision tilted his head a little, like a confused animal, “You’re welcome,” he said after a while.

 

He turned to leave again when Pietro blurted out, “If you break her heart, I’ll kill you.”

 

“Pietro!” Wanda scolded, hitting him on the chest, “You saw us?”

 

Vision looked like a deer in the headlights. He muttered something that sounded like a ‘yes, of course’, before phasing through the wall and disappearing. Pietro felt satisfied, but Wanda continued to berate him.

 

Small steps.

 

* * *

 

It was morning by the time Dr. Strange and Agatha returned to the tower. Steve couldn’t be sure, but Dr. Strange looked more harrowed than he had when he left. It looked, for all he could tell, that the man had bad news to tell them.

 

Steve was hating this day more and more.

 

Whatever it was, Strange waited until they had all gathered together. He rubbed his eyes and looked grave, “I’m afraid I have bad news,” he said, and Steve braced himself, “It’s unlikely that we will be able to save your friend.”

 

There was a shocked silence for all of a second before they all began voicing their complaints. THere was no way they would accept that.

 

Strange held up a hand to silence them, and strangely, they all felt compelled to stop talking (even Tony, which was a feat unto itself), “Please know that I don’t make this observation  _ lightly _ . I’ve been searching for a way to extract Mephisto without harming the host body and—” Strange looked genuinely upset, and Steve found himself feeling sorry for him a little, “There’s no way.”

 

He was lying, Steve could see it in his face. He was lying about something, “Are you sure there’s no way?” he asked, knowing he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

 

Strange sighed and drew himself up, “None that are viable.”

 

Tony wasn’t buying it, “What the hell does that mean?”

 

“The only other exorcism that I could find that doesn’t end in the death of the host is one that involves a sacrifice be made,” Strange explained.

 

“A life for a life,” Agatha said, an eerie echo of their first encounter. However, where she was smugly satisfied back then in the desert, now she looked sadly resigned. Steve wanted to shake her a little.

 

“So that’s it then? We don't even try?” Tony hissed, pacing around.

 

Dr. Strange glared slightly, “I’m fairly certain you don’t want this kind of death on your conscious, and your friend wouldn’t either.”

 

That stopped them for a moment. Clint would never want to trade a life for his, no matter the situation. Steve looked at his team’s faces, watching them try to come to terms with the reality they were faced with.

 

Rhodey rubbed the back of his neck, “Could we maybe get a convict? Someone on death row?”

 

“Time is of the essence I’m afraid. We don't have the time to convince the necessary people to surrender even the most dastardly of criminals,” Strange said.

 

Tony began to pace again, obviously trying to find some kind of loophole, some kind of trick to it and save Clint. Natas a mask of ice, no emotion at all, and Steve knew she was desperate to keep it that way. Inside she probably wanted to cry and fly into a rage and  _ demand _ that Strange find another way.

 

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” Steve asked, so she wouldn’t have to. If she did, she might break.

 

Strange sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “There is the off chance that Clint could fight off Mephisto himself, reject him from his body. But the chances of that are extremely slim, and we cannot count on it. A demon of Mephisto’s calibur would give someone like  _ me _ a great deal of trouble. For someone with no magical talent such as your friend, it would take an incredible amount of willpower. Not only that, but Mephisto is meticulous, he . . . breaks the spirit of anyone he inhabits,” Strange explained, “I’m very sorry, but there is only one way we can be sure.”

 

Sometimes, Steve hated being the man in charge.

 

Most of the time, he loved it. He loved taking care of his teammates, and directing them to the best of their abilities. It was hard to make the tough calls, sometimes, but he always did so with the best of intentions. Everyone trusted him to make the right call.

 

Now, he almost regretted that trust; all eyes were on him, waiting for him to make the decision. It roiled in his gut, the choice he was about to make, but he had to be the one to make it. He looked at Strange and knew that there really was no other way.

 

“Do the exorcism,” he said, steeling himself, “We’ll make the arrangements for . . . for after.”

 

Dr. Strange nodded and Natasha turned and left the room. Wanda sobbed and clung to her brother. Rhodey sighed and sat down on the couch, head in his hands. Sam turned towards the window, hiding his face from the rest. Vision stood tall and stoic, but drifted close to Wanda and rubbed her back as she cried. Tony was looking at him, as though waiting for him to change his mind. Steve tried to school his face into something that resembled determination; they had no other choice.

 

Tony turned away.

 

* * *

 

Sam found Natasha on the rooftop, watching the city and feeling the cool air across her face. Sam shivered a little; it was cold, so far up, and he was only in a T-shirt. Natasha on the other hand was battle ready, her catsuit zipped up and her gear fully charged. If it were any other thing, Sam might have left her alone.

 

Left  _ Clint _ to deal with her.

 

But that wasn’t in the cards now, so he squared up and walked over to her, cautiously approaching her from the side so as not to sneak up on her (not that he could, probably). She didn’t move to acknowledge he was there, only narrowing her eyes a little as the wind picked up.

 

“Hey,” Sam greeted lamely, “How are you doing?”

 

“I should have noticed,” was all she said, glaring at the haze of light over the city that never slept, “I should have noticed how different he was acting.”

 

“But you did notice,” Sam countered, “You noticed and you thought it was something that you had seen before. You saw the signs of Clint having a depressive episode and you didn't think anything else about it. That’s  _ normal _ , Natasha. You can’t blame yourself.”

 

Natasha didn’t say anything, only stared out at the city that was beginning to wake up. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon, casting a red shine over the city. It was really pretty.

 

_ The perfect day for a funeral _ , Sam thought sardonically.

 

“I . . .” Natasha’s voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her speak, “I could do it.”

 

“Nat, no.”

 

“I could,” she said with more confidence, “He saved my life, I  _ owe _ it to him. I could be the sacrifice.”

 

Sam did the ballsiest thing he had ever done in his life; he put his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, holding her close, “He saved your life so you could  _ live _ , Nat. Don't throw that away,” he said, almost pleading, “I know,” he choked a little, “I know it’s going to be hard, but he wouldn't want that. He wouldn’t want to wake up and know that the only reason for it was because you died. Don't do that to him Nat.”

 

Natasha was tense for what felt like hours, but eventually she just collapsed against Sam, burying her face into his neck and quietly sobbing. Sam wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on her hair. If a few tears dropped down into her red curls, well, no one had to know but the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this was an emotional chapter to write.


	25. Death March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've probably got one or two chapters left guys. Brace yourselves!

Since Dr. Strange had returned, he, Agatha, and Wanda were setting up a type of summoning circle in the middle of the biggest lounge area. This would give them enough room to work and still allow for the rest of the Avengers to be there. The question of whether they should be there didn’t come up. They all wanted to see this thing that had hijacked Clint’s body be expelled from him, preferably with violence. Strange had said that it was unlikely that they would see the demon for more than a moment, if they were ‘lucky’, but Tony knew they were all hoping to get a swing in if they could.

 

The preparations seemed to be going well enough, but everyone in the room was dead silent, and a feeling of dread had settled over them.

 

They were about to watch their friend die.

 

Tony felt ill.

 

To busy himself, and to keep useful, Tony was trying to figure out the arrangements for afterwards. What Clint wanted done with his estate (such as it was), how he wanted his remains handled, and what kind of service he wanted. He probably should have just asked Natasha, but by the time she had come back from wherever she’d left to be alone to, Tony didn’t think she wanted to talk about it.

 

A weight settled next to him and Tony immediately leaned into it, recognizing Rhodey’s particular mix of mid-range cologne and cheap deodorant. Rhodey said nothing and just wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he worked.

 

It was times like this that Tony wished he was better with people than he was. He never usually bothered with people; he knew he was abrasive and unpleasant most of the time, but he had enough status in society that he could be overlooked as an ‘eccentric genius’. With the people he cared about, he tried a little harder to be ‘nice’ (which often backfired), but he tended to surround himself with intuitive, kind people, who could see that he was trying his best.

 

He didn't think he best would be enough right now.

 

So he sat with Rhodey, leaning against him and trying to figure out whether Clint would prefer cremation or a casket; open casket or closed? Oak, pine, mahogany? Tony put down the tablet and scrubbed at his eyes.

 

“You okay?” Rhodey asked quietly, but it was a little startling in the silence of the room.

 

“Fine,” Tony answered too quickly. He paused for a long moment, “I hate this,” he said.

 

Rhodey sighed and squeezed Tony’s shoulders, “Yeah, me too.”

 

“If I could just figure out how it  _ worked _ ,” Tony grumbled, “If I knew the science behind all this ‘magic’ I could find a way to—”

 

“Tony, don't do that to yourself.” Rhodey squeezed him harder, “Don’t go down that road okay? There’s nothing we can do.”

 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and curled into Rhodey, his oldest friend. He took a few deep breaths and tried not to let the stinging in his eyes develop into full blown tears. That was the last thing they all needed right now.

 

“Hey, don't blame  _ anyone _ okay?” Rhodey said quietly, wrapping his other arm around him in a hug, “Not yourself, not Steve, not Wanda, okay? None of us knew.”

 

Tony glanced over to where Wanda was helping set up the circle thing; even from here, he could see that her eyes were red, wet, and puffy. She wiped them periodically, sniffling and hiccuping as she did. If Tony felt any resentment towards her, it died in that moment.

 

“This is going to set her back so much,” Tony said, “She’s been doing so well.”

 

Rhodey hummed and nodded, “We’ll have to be there for her.”

 

Tony didn't say anything for a long time, “It’ll never be the same.”

 

Rhodey sighed again, “No, it won’t.”

 

* * *

 

Wanda hiccupped and wiped away tears for what felt like the millionth time that hour. Her eyes and cheeks burned from the constant irritation and she could hardly see through the moisture. After she had to readjust the candle she was trying to place for the fifth time, Dr. Strange made his way over to her.

 

“Perhaps you should take a break my dear,” he said cautiously, offering her a white handkerchief.

 

Wanda took it and dabbed at her eyes; the cool material soothed her eyes instantly, and she suspected that the innocuous piece of cloth was enchanted to do just that, “I want to help,” she said through her sniffles.

 

Strange just smiled at her sadly, “And I am so very grateful for it, but I think you are worrying your friends,” he said. Behind him, Wanda could see both Vision and her brother watching her with concern, “Take a break and we will call you when it’s time,” Strange said, patting her shoulder.

 

Wanda deliberated for a moment before nodding; she offered the handkerchief back, but Strange only shook his head, “Keep it. You need it more than I do.” He gently pushed her towards where Pietro and Vision were waiting anxiously.

 

She crossed to them in a few steps and immediately folded herself into Pietro’s chest, sobbing. A cool hand on her back told her that Vision was close by and trying to comfort her as best he could.

 

Wanda wasn’t sure how long she cried, but when she awoke to her surroundings again, she was lying down on one of the larger couches, her head on Pietro’s lap and Vision seated on the floor next to them. Pietro petted her hair soothingly and Vision was still rubbing her back. The circle in the room looked much more complete and the sun was slightly higher than it had been.

 

Someone else sat down on the couch and Wanda looked up to see Natasha seated next to her brother. Wanda sat up quickly, so much so that her head swam a little.

 

“Natasha,” she croaked, her voice hoarse, “I’m so—”

 

Natasha stopped her with a look, green eyes pouring into brown. There was only the slightest hint of red around her eyes to suggest she had been crying; the older woman leaned over and plucked the bunched up handkerchief from Wanda’s hand and began gently cleaning her face. The enchanted fabric dried away the moisture, soothed the burning, and cleaned away the salt that stained her face. Natasha held it over her nose and nodded, so Wanda blew.

 

Natasha finished cleaning her up and side-eyed Pietro and Vision. Vision nodded and moved to leave, but not before stopping to lay a kiss to Wanda’s temple. Pietro looked more reluctant to move, but eventually slid out from under his sister when Wanda reassured him quietly that she would be alright.

 

Wanda sat more properly on the couch next to Natasha, bracing herself for whatever she was about to unleash on her. Clint was her best friend, and Wanda was responsible for what was happening to him. She couldn’t imagine what Natasha was going through, but she didn't expect that they would continue to be as close as they had been.

 

So it came as a complete surprise to her when Natasha wrapped her in a tight embrace. Wanda felt more tears welling up in her still stinging eyes and buried her face into red hair, wrapping her arms around Natasha just as tightly.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I’m so sorry. I didn't know. I’m so sorry.”

 

Natasha took a shaking breath, almost a sob, “I forgive you,” she said.

 

Fresh tears spilled down Wanda’s cheeks as she cried enough for the both of them.

 

* * *

 

Steve felt lightheaded.

 

It was a product of not sleeping and not eating, but he couldn't bring himself to lie down or stomach the thought of food right now. He paced agitatedly up and down the room, watching the magic-users work, hating himself. He hated that it had to be his call, that he had to pull that trigger, even though he knew it needed to be pulled. He knew Clint, and he knew that Clint would thank him for it, but that didn't make it any easier.

 

When his vision finally started to go blurry, Steve decided that he needed to sit down at least. He found a couch and collapsed heavily onto it, putting his face in his hands and trying to squash down on the disgust he felt.

 

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his own head, “Cap? You okay?” Sam asked, squeezing slightly.

 

“Peachy,” Steve growled. He sighed, “Sorry. I’ll be . . . I’ll be okay.”

 

“Eventually,” Sam elaborated for him. Steve sighed and flopped back against the couch, stretching his legs out. They ached from all the pacing.

 

“I’m going to make some toast for everyone. We need to eat,” Sam said. Out of all of them, Sam was the best a breakfast foods.

 

Clint was the best a desserts.

 

“Sounds good. Thanks,” Steve said, even though he was sure most of them would refuse food right now. He knew he wanted to, but he would eat a little because he needed to.

 

Sam squeezed his shoulder one last time slipping away to the kitchen. Steve sighed and looked back at the preparations. It looked like Strange and Agatha were putting the final touches on the circle, so it was likely that they would start soon. Steve had no idea what it would entail, but he was sure it would be nothing good.

 

A few minutes later, Steve watched as Sam went around the room, tossing pieces of toast at everyone. Like he predicted, it didn’t look like anyone was hungry, but they all listlessly munched at their slices anyway. Steve noticed, however, that Tony refused to even take a slice, even when Sam nearly shoved it in his face. Steve sighed and stood, snagging a few slices from the plate as Sam passed. He gave him and nod and stood in front of Tony.

 

“You should at least have a few bites,” he said.

 

Tony just mumbled something and continued tapping away at his tablet. Steve looked to Rhodey for help, but the man shrugged and shook his head. Steve sighed and flopped down on Tony’s other side, his weight causing them all to bounce a little.

 

Tearing off a piece of toast, Steve popped it into his mouth as he tore off another and pressed it to Tony’s lips. Tony jerked and looked over at him with an incredulous brow.

 

“If you won’t eat, I’ll feed you,” Steve said, voice even and serious.

 

Tony looked like he wanted to protest, but when he opened his mouth to do so, Steve only shoved the toast in. Tony balked for a second, before rolling his eyes and finally chewing.

 

“Ridiculous,” Tony grumbled, elbowing Rhodey when he snickered. Steve ignored him and continued to tear off pieces of toast and feed them alternatively to Tony and to himself.

 

After a few minutes, Tony shifted on the couch and leaned against him. Rhodey looked over at the two of them and smiled.

 

* * *

 

“We’re ready to begin.”

 

Strange’s words cut through the still atmosphere, like a spell being broken. Wanda looked up from where she’d been resting against Natasha and tried to swallow her fear.

 

There was no turning back now.

 

Standing up and stretching, she prepared herself to join the sorcerer and the witch at her place in the ceremony. They could potentially do it without her, but as it was her power that had wrought this evil upon them, it was only justice that it helped stop it.

 

Magic was poetic like that.

 

Pietro appeared at her side in a rush of wind and she turned to hug him one last time. She resolutely didn’t let herself whimper or cry. She had used all of her tears and now she was ready to do her job.

 

“I’m going to go out there because it’s my job,” she said to herself, hearing the echo of Clint’s words in her head. He had always been kind to her, and she was about to repay him by ripping a demon from his body, which would kill him in the process.

 

Separating herself from Pietro, she turned and tried to face the inevitable. A flash of gold stopped her and she let Vision crowd up close, so they could have a semi-private moment.

 

“Vision,” Wanda whispered, pressing her head to his chest, “Please, don't think less of me for this.”

 

“Never,” Vision answered, lifting a hand to stroke her hair, “I still revere our connection, and will continue to do so, even if the worst comes to pass.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, “For always.”

 

_ Connection _ .

 

For some reason, the word flittered through her mind like a minnow in clear water, but she shook it off, “For always,” she echoed. With one final embrace, she went to join Strange and Agatha.

 

Agatha smiled at her, “Even in the darkest times, there is always a light,” she said.

 

Wanda smiled a little as Strange put a hand on her back, guiding her into place, “Be sure not to set over this line, my dear,” he pointed out one of the many circles in the intricate pattern, “This is a sealing circle, and will keep Mephisto from reaching us. If you cross it, he will be able to harm you.”

 

Wanda nodded and took her place. Agatha and Strange would perform most of the complex bits, and she would provide the power. Wanda took a deep breath and pulled her power forward, letting it flow over the lines of the circles, lighting the candles with odd red flames. Strange and Agatha began to chant.

 

* * *

 

Clint felt something lurch in the darkness, tugging him along. What?

 

_ We’re being summoned. _


	26. Horror Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter guys! Well, second to last. Epilogue coming up!

Natasha watched with trepidation as the circle glowed with red light. She was suddenly taken back to that day in Uzbekistan, when this all started. The candles lit up with red flames that quickly changed to blue, offsetting the red light in a way that was actually quite pretty. Natasha paced around the edge and tried not to think of what was about to happen to her oldest friend.

 

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, becoming darker and heavier, like a thick blanket had been cast over the room. The edges of the room seemed to dim, and the windows seemed to fog over. The main source of light was now the glowing red circle.

 

“Mephisto!” Strange shouted, stopping his chant, “Show yourself.”

 

Strange’s cape billowed around his feet, and Natasha noticed that anything light enough was fluttering in a wind that wasn’t there. Her own hair whipped around her head, but she couldn’t feel it on her cheek. It was the oddest feeling, to see the effects of something, but not feel it.

 

The darkness descended for a moment, pressing everything down until the only thing visible was the light from the candles and the glow of the circle. Dr. Strange shouted something in what sounded a little like Sumerian and the light returned; Natasha gasped, suddenly aware that she had been holding her breath. Similar gasps from Sam next to her told her she wasn’t the only one.

 

As the shadows receded, they revealed a figure in the centre of the circle. Natasha jerked, recognizing the form before she even saw the face. Clint was standing in a way she had never seen him hold himself before. It was jarring, to see the face and body but not the man himself.

 

Natasha was suddenly filled with rage and hatred. She would  _ annihilate _ whatever had done this to her friend.

 

The creature suddenly spoke, it’s voice deep and raspy, like a growling hiss, “Strange, so lovely to see you again.” The creature grinned, showing all of it’s teeth in a way that Clint never did. Natasha wanted to bash it’s face in.

 

“Mephisto,” Strange growled back, “You know we can force you out of that body. Leave it and the girl alone and spare the man’s life.”

 

Mephisto shrugged, and Natasha took note of the burn on his shoulder, from Vision no doubt. Bubbled skin burst and split with each movement, but it was as though he couldn’t feel it, “Why should I? Another human death means nothing to me. Should I turn tail and run, just because you ask politely?” It tilted its head, eyes glinting yellow even in all of the red light, “I think not.”

 

It suddenly turned it’s attention to Wanda, “Well, little girl, you’ve certainly caused some trouble, haven’t you?” it purred in a mockery of caring, “One little soul through one little crack, and you’ve let me into the world,” Mephisto grinned again, predatory in a way that made Natasha’s stomach curl, “Stupid little girl.”

 

“Quiet,” Wanda ordered, “Go back from whence you came, abomination.”

 

Mephisto laughed, the echo booming through the room in a way it shouldn’t have, not with the way the room’s acoustics were set up, “Oh you are just too much my dear,” it said. It stilled and seemed to loom over Wanda, dark and threatening, “Do you think it’ll end here? Do you think that you’ll send me back to hell and that will be the end of it? That I won’t try again? That I won’t keep coming for you?” it hissed, and Natasha felt heat on her face, “I’ll keep coming for you. I’ll never stop, not until I have you at my feet,” it paused, licking it’s lips, “Or at my side,” It glanced at Vision, floating beyond the circle, “ _ For always _ .”

 

* * *

 

Wanda felt her insides twist as Mephisto spoke. Fear crawled up her spine as he mocked the words Vision had uttered to her so tenderly.

 

It had been  _ watching _ her, somehow.

 

It licked it’s lips again, “Oh yes, I’ve been watching,” he stroked his chest, “This body has so many wonderful memories and so much wonderful knowledge, like how to hack 

the security cameras,” Mephisto laughed, “I’ve seen your little show. You think you have a connection with the little puppet?” he turned to raise a brow at Vision over her shoulder, “I can assure you, the connection you and I would have is  _ much _ stronger.”

 

_ Connection _ . There was that word again, slithering around in her brain. There was something  _ there _ that she wasn’t getting, that kept slipping past her.

 

“Do not listen to it Wanda. We will always have a connection that he can never take away.” Visions voice carried over the pounding in her own ears.

 

_ There is the off chance that Clint could fight off Mephisto himself, reject him from his body . . . it would take an incredible amount of willpower. _

 

Wanda had a sudden thought race through her. It was extremely dangerous, and she knew she was likely to die if it went wrong.

 

But she had to try. For Clint.

 

Steeling herself, Wanda looked over her shoulder and cast one last smile at Pietro and Vision. They looked at her oddly, but Pietro seemed to catch on first.

 

“Wanda! Don’t!” he cried.

 

“Sorry,” Wanda said, and then stepped over the line.

 

“Wanda! Get back!”

 

“Wanda! Child, what are you doing!?”

 

“Kid!”

 

“Wanda!”

 

“ **_Wanda!_ ** ”

 

Wanda paid the others no mind as she stalked up to Mephisto. It looked at her with an expression of surprise on Clint’s face. She used the window of opportunity and lunged, placing her hands at Clint’s temples and using her power to dive into his mind.

 

_ Foolish girl _ , came a voice in her head,  _ Did you think you could defeat me here? I thought you were smarter than that at least. _

 

Wanda grinned, her power surging around her.

 

**I’m not here for you.**

 

* * *

 

Clint felt like he was about to throw up his insides. His head burned and he couldn’t move a muscle. Everything churned around him, like he was in a blender set to ‘slurry’. He didn’t know which way was up.

 

**Clint.**

 

Wanda?

 

**Clint. Fight it.**

 

Through the darkness, a fissure of red light broke through; it hurt, but in the same way that massaging a sore, overused muscle hurt. Clint wasn't sure if he should turn away or try and move closer. Something that felt like tendrils touched his mind, like fingertips brushing against his skin, but not close enough to actually touch.

 

**Clint! You need to fight ba—**

 

_ That’s enough out of you, child. _

 

Darkness shrouded over Clint again, and he could feel his body grow more numb as it did. The urge to let it take him returned and he began to relax.

 

**No! Clint! Fight it!**

 

The pain returned, and it felt like he was lurching in and out of his body. The ‘closer’ he got to the light, the more it hurt, but he felt compelled to keep going.

 

_ What can you do? What does it matter? What happens if you return to your body? You life? Your worthless, pathetic life? You're useless to everyone around you. Just give up. _

 

Clint could feel that there was something wrong with that, but the voice was so  _ compelling _ that he almost didn't care. It would just be easier to let it win.

 

_ That's right Clint, it can be easy. Let it all go and it will be easy for the rest of time. _

 

**No Clint! Don't listen to him!**

 

Wanda sounded so panicked, was she in danger? The thought was like a shot of adrenaline right up his spine and he jerked. The pain was nigh unbearable, but if Wanda was in danger, he had to help.

 

_ What could you do to help? _

 

**We need you Clint! I need your help!**

 

_ Silence girl! _

 

**Ah!**

 

Clint’s heart stuttered in his chest (had it been beating before? Was he only just noticing it now?); Wanda was definitely in danger, and he needed to help.

 

_ How would you be of any use to her? She can move and shape reality to her will, and you’re nothing but carny trash. _

 

**Clint! Help me! You need to fight! The Avengers need you to fight!**

 

Every new crack in the darkness stung like a hundred wasp stings, but Clint tried to reach for them, tried to pry them apart. He needed to help!

 

_ You can’t help! _

 

**Yes you can! You helped me, remember? You helped me do my job, and now you need to do your job. You need to fight!**

 

There was a shrieking hiss, and Clint could see eyes watching him in a distant corner of darkness, yellow and menacing. Clouds of inky darkness descended over Clint, dragging him away from the red light. It both hurt and numbed him as he was pulled deeper and deeper into the darkness. His stomach lurched and he thought he would scream if he could.

 

_ You are  _ **_nothing_ ** _! Nothing but a sideshow playing at the heels of Gods! Your existence is meaningless and your life is petty! Nothing you do will change that! You are a drop in a vast ocean of nothingness! You have done nothing and you will do nothing! I have control of you now! Your body and your will is  _ **_mine_ ** _! _

 

Clint could feel himself succumbing, even as he struggled against it. He remembered nearly drowning once, he remembered what it was like to try and hold his breath as long as possible, but his body just wasn't having it. You take a breath even though you know it will kill you because your lungs have a job to do and they don't care that you're not breathing the right kind of substance. This felt much the same, but reversed in some twisted way. It might just be easier to swim with the current, let it take him down.

 

_ I will not have some gypsy witch get the better of me! _

 

Hold on, excuse me?

 

Clint twisted and jerked, doing what he assumed was the spiritual equivalent of digging his heels in. The darkness, whatever it really was, trembled slightly, as though not expecting the resistance.

 

_ What— what is this? What are you doing? _

 

Did you just use the word I think you used? That is so messed up, even for . . . whatever the fuck this was.

 

_ No  _ **_no_ ** _! Submit to me! _

 

**Yes Clint! Fight! Reach for me! You can do it!**

 

Clint yanked, wrenching his body and feeling the darkness bend slightly. For the first time in weeks he felt awake and aware, even as the darkness swirled around him. The red light was still reaching for him, and he reached back. In his periphery, he saw the eyes again, and it felt like they were right up next to him.

 

_ Stupid, insolent—! _

 

Clint had had just about enough of this thing. He turned his head to fade it dead on.

 

He felt it flinch.

 

Clint  _ was  _ a man running around with Gods, but you know what else? He’s also a man who can  _ keep up _ with those Gods. And it was hard, holy shit it was hard, but he did it because it  _ was _ worth something. People were alive because of him, and that was worth it. He had faced monsters and legends and hell itself and spat in their faces. He wasn't just some guy with a bow and arrow, he was a man who  _ never _ missed,  _ never _ took a shot that wasn't worth it, who took that bow and arrow and did things that would make any other man quiver in his boots. He wasn't just some sideshow, he was motherfucking Hawkeye, and he was a motherfucking  _ Avenger _ . Anyone who wanted to say otherwise could go screw themselves.

 

_ You—! _

 

Fuck off.

 

* * *

 

Pietro hardly had time to process what was happening by the time it was over, and for him, that was a feat. The second Wanda reached Clint, the red light had become too blinding to look directly at, and the shadows swirling around them swallowed all other forms of light. The darkness seemed to win at first, but the light surged and pulsed outward. The darkness shuddered and rapidly collapsed in on itself, the windows shattering inwards as it did and raining glass everywhere. Pietro worried for a fraction of a millisecond that they were all doomed, but then the spots cleared from his eyes and they were all still standing.

 

All of them except for Wanda and Clint, who were both slumped over in the middle of the circle.

 

Pietro moved quickly, reaching her a fraction before Strange did. The older man swore and cursed as he pulled out a flask, “Hold her head up and keep her neck straight,” he ordered.

 

Pietro did as he was told, too worried to think of complaining about being ordered around. Strange uncapped the flask and poured a clear, slightly bluish liquid over Wanda’s lips. For a heart stopping moment, there was nothing to indicate anything had happened, but as soon as Pietro could think to panic, Wanda began coughing and sputtering.

 

“Goddess what  _ is _ that?” She wiped her mouth vigorously, sitting up and coughing some more.

 

“You're better off not knowing,” Strange said, and he moved towards Clint. Before he could give the man the same treatment, Clint’s eyes flew up and he bolted upright.

 

Natasha reached him just as he vomited a thick, putrid black goo all over the floor. Pietro wrinkled his nose and tried not to gag at the smell (something like a bloated corpse that had been dragged through a sewer and then set on fire), but Natasha only rubbed her friend’s back.

 

“Welcome back, Mr. Barton,” Strange said, sounding mystified. He watched Clint like he were some sort of miracle.

 

“Fucking  _ fuck _ ,” Clint moaned, “What the fu— urk!” He paused to throw up more goo, “The fuck is this shit?”

 

By now, the puddle of goo seemed too large to have come from one man’s stomach. It stained everything it touched, and it was getting everywhere. Rhodey managed to thrust a large pot under Clint’s face just in time to get some spewed all over his hands.

 

“Nice man,” he grumbled, but the relief on his face ruined his indignation.

 

“Eat a dick,” Clint replied. It was definitely Clint in there.

 

Strange seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, “It’s demonic ectoplasm. It's a byproduct of being possessed by such a powerful and evil entity.”

 

Clint groaned and threw up again; the pot was now half full of goo, “Fan-fucking-tasting.”

 

“Be thankful that it’s coming out the end that it is,” Agatha remarked.

 

“Jesus Christ that is  _ rank _ ,” Tony hissed, fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket and covering his mouth and nose, “And it’s all over my nice carpets too.”

 

“Let me tell you, it tastes so much worse than it smells,” Clint groaned, resting his head against Natasha’s shoulder. She stroked his sweaty hair, not caring that he was smearing goo all over her.

 

Strange stood, looking a little shaky and pale himself, “Honestly, it’s better that it’s over the floor. This stuff is literal hell in plumbing systems. And I really do mean  _ literal _ hell.” He rubbed his eyes, “I need a drink.”

 

“No booze in the tower,” Steve and Tony said at the same time.

 

“We have coffee and toast,” Sam offered, “And hot chocolate.”

 

Strange ran a hand through his hair, “Coffee will have to suffice,” he said. He glanced back down at Clint, “You might want to keep more pots handy. This will take a while.”

 

Clint groaned and threw up another round. The pot overflowed and spilled over his hands and down his front, “Spectacular.”

 

* * *

 

By the time they had all relocated to one of the conference rooms that were scattered around the tower, coffee had been procured for everyone except Clint, who had managed to fill another two pots with the stinky black ectoplasm and was working on a third. It did seem to be slowing down a little though, which they were all thankful for, although it did offer Clint more room to loudly complain.

 

“Why the fuck does it feel like I broke a rib and my collarbone?” Clint whined, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, which was no longer doing anything but smearing goo across his face, “Fuck, everything hurts! What the fuck happened to my shoulder!?”

 

“Hold still,” Natasha admonished, trying to rub burn ointment over his shoulder where she could reach while also trying not to get any ectoplasm on herself or in the wound. She was succeeding at only one of those things. 

 

“Can we get to the part where someone explains what the hell just happened?” Tony all but shouted, flailing and pacing around.

 

Strange took a long drink of his coffee, sorely wishing it were something stronger, “I’m afraid I'm a little in the dark about that myself,” he said. He looked over at Wanda, “Would you like to explain why you decided to give me a heart attack, my dear?”

 

Wanda shifted awkwardly in her seat, looking like a mix of ashamed and proud of herself, “It was Vision who gave me the idea,” she said.

 

They all glanced at Vision, but he looked as baffled as the rest of them, so they waited for Wanda to elaborate.

 

She sipped at her hot chocolate to stall a little, “Some months ago, Vision and I . . . connected.”

 

“You did  _ what _ !?” Pietro vaulted out of his seat.

 

Wanda rolled her eyes, “Connected our  _ minds _ ,” she clarified, grabbing Pietro’s shirt and dragging him back down to his chair, “For a moment, we became one entity, sharing our thoughts,” she turned to Strange, “When you told me that there was a chance that Clint could fight off Mephisto if he had enough willpower, it clicked in my head that I could connect with Clint and let him use my power as a kind of step up,” she explained. She paused, then drew herself up, looking determined, “It was a risk, but I knew I had to try.”

 

Agatha and Strange looked at her as though she had grown a second head, “That’s . . .” Strange started, “That’s probably the most astonishingly stupid thing I think I have ever been witness to.”

 

Wanda flushed and looked down in shame, causing Strange to quickly backtrack, “Foolish my dear, I meant foolish and reckless and absolutely  _ miraculous _ that you pulled it off.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Something like that would never have occurred to me because it has almost no chance of succeeding and the risk is too great. The fact that you pulled it off was nothing short of divine intervention.”

 

Wanda looked up through her lashes and smiled a little, “Yup,” Clint said from his corner, “That’s the Avengers for you. Doing the absolute impossible and only just making it by the short and curlies.” He grinned and ended his little speech with a loud belch.

 

“And on that eloquent note,” Steve cut in, “Are we certain that Mephisto is gone?”

 

“Quite certain, Captain,” Agatha said, “I cannot feel any malevolent entities in the tower. In fact, it’s quite possible that the backlash of Mephisto returning to hell might have scattered any demonic presences in a sizeable range.”

 

“And I am not detecting any energy signatures resembling the one Mephisto gave out in a fifty mile radius,” Vision said, “I believe it is gone.”

 

Everyone in the room seemed to relax at the news, as though a weight had been lifted. Somehow they had made it through without losing anyone, even though they came close. Sam and Steve both slumped back in their seats, Wanda sighed and leaned back against Vision, and Tony finally sat down. Natasha let out a long sigh and finished covering the burn on Clint’s shoulder, reaching for the gauze pads to cover it.

 

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha bitch you THOUGHT.


	27. When All is Said and Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it guys! We made it to the end! Well, I made it to the end and you all tagged along, but still. Hope you had as much fun as I did.

Cleaning up after the whole mess turned into an ordeal. Not only was there glass everywhere from the windows, but the the lines of the summoning circle had burned straight through the carpet and scorched into the underlying cement.

 

“How come every time we deal with shit like Gods and demons, it’s  _ my _ stuff that gets busted?” Tony grumbled, tossing yet another roll of the torn up carpet into the bin they were using.

 

“Just lucky I guess?” Steve offered, on his hands and knees scrubbing the cement, trying to get the worst of the damage out. Tony had offered to just hire out the work, but Steve insisted that the team could handle it.

 

Tony huffed, “Well it’s bullshit,” he said.

 

“Less taking, more tearing,” Sam called from where he was slicing up chunks of ruined carpet with an X-acto knife, “Seriously, flirt another time.”

 

Tony flushed; was he really so obvious? He busied himself by bending to rip another part of carpet up. Risking a glance at Steve’s back, he noticed that the blonde’s ears had gone bright red.

 

Well, that was something.

 

As Tony was puzzling over that, movement drew his attention elsewhere. He watched with a slight smile as Vision and Wanda helped ‘clean’ over in a secluded corner. They were awkward and a little shy, but dang if they weren’t a cute couple (as odd as that sounded). Vision leaned down to say something in Wanda’s ear, causing her to giggle.

 

Tony chuckled and turned back to his work. Maybe he needed to take Rhodey’s advice a little more seriously.

 

* * *

 

Clint was still puking up black goo, but it had slowed down considerably in the night, but not before he had completely ruined five pots, three 4 litre buckets, and a salad bowl. The goo itself had hardened into a strangely brittle substance that cracked and crumbled like charcoal when disturbed. Needless to say, the goo-dust was also responsible for making a huge mess. Luckily, the worst of it seemed to be over, and Clint’s main concern now was the injuries that Mephisto had put him through.

 

“This is going to scar like a motherfucker,” Clint said as Natasha helped wrap it more properly now that he’d cleaned himself off a bit more. He didn't have his hearing aids in, so he was relying on lip reading. Luckily he knew Natasha really well and could guess what she was saying better, “Fuck my chest hurts.”

 

“You did take a direct hit from both Wanda and Vision,” Natasha pointed out, “I can't imagine it tickled.”

 

Clint continued to grumble, “I can't believe I was possessed by a demon. Who even gets possessed anymore? I feel like I should be in a shitty horror movie.”

 

“Apparently this is the kind of thing that happens to us now,” Natasha hummed, finally finished wrapping his chest, “You’re an Avenger, and that entails demonic possession.”

 

“Fuck yeah I'm an Avenger,” Clint said, reaching for his shirt, “And demons can eat shit.”

 

Natasha laughed a spit away her tools. She went a little quiet (not that Clint could really tell, she might be humming) and Clint could see a far off look in her eyes. He slid off the exam table and into a plastic chair next to her, taking one of her hands in his own.

 

“I’m okay Nat,” he said, squeezing her hand, “I’m alive.”

 

Natasha squeezed back, “You scared me you asshole.”

 

“Sorry,” Clint chuckled, “I’ll try not to get possessed in the future.”

 

“You better.” Natasha leaned over and kissed his cheek. She pulled away and wrinkled her nose, “Your breath reeks.”

 

Clint grumbled, “It’s not my fault. Remember that mission in Alaska? Where we saw that rotted whale explode from all the gas? Yeah, this shit tastes like that shit smelled. I’m going to have to drink all the mouthwash in the tower to get it to stop.”

 

Natasha laughed, “I remember. A chunk of innards landed  _ in  _ the car, which  _ you _ left open like a jackass. Also, don't drink mouthwash.”

 

“Fuck you bitch, you don't tell me how to live my life,” Clint laughed, standing up, “Come on, let's go see if I can guilt Tony into getting Chinese from Fung’s.”

 

“After all the puking you’ve been doing, now you want to ingest Fung’s?” Natasha shook her head, “I will never understand you, Hawkeye.”

 

“Damn straight.” Clint grinned and led her out of the infirmary by their still joined hands.

 

* * *

 

Pietro watched Wanda from a distance while she chatted with Vision, smiling like the synthesized had hung the moon just for her. They were taking a break from cleaning the tower to eat some lunch. Clint had demanded Chinese food, citing the fact that he was the injured party and deserved to choose, but had been overruled when it was pointed out that Wanda was the real hero and the right to pick should be hers. Wanda, in order to keep the peace, had chosen Chinese food anyway, although not from the place Clint had suggested, but a slightly more reputable place.

 

So they were all sitting in the kitchen, eating out of take out containers and gently ribbing each other. Tony and Steve were sitting close together and seemed to be engaged in a lively conversation, apparently making plans to go to an art gallery that was opening soon. Natasha and arboretum kept giving them looks and then glancing at each other, grinning to themselves. Clint was entertaining Sam with tales of hilarity from his circus days, causing the darker man to nearly snort noodles up his nose. And Wanda and Vision were seated closest of all, alone in their world together.

 

Pietro felt a little ill.

 

He couldn't stop his foot from tapping on the floor, bouncing his leg with the motion. It almost didn't look like he was moving at all, he was moving so fast. His food lay untouched in front of him, his hands clenching in his lap. He could feel his heart thudding rapidly in his chest and he felt cold sweat across his back. His head throbbed with every pulse of his heart, a tension migraine building. Yet he said nothing, did nothing to indicate to Wanda what he was feeling. He needed to let go, he needed to deal with it on his own.

 

Tony glanced up and noticed him, raising an eyebrow before getting up and walking over to his side of the table. He laid a hand on Pietro’s shoulder, “Let's take a walk,” he suggested.

 

Pietro nodded and bolted up, trying to ignore the looks he was getting. Wanda finally looked up at him and reached to him through their link. Pietro gave her a quick, uneasy smile before darting after Tony.

 

They didn’t go far before Tony rounded on him, “Okay, I want you to follow what I do, alright?” he said, tone even and calming, “Blow all your breath out, like this.” He demonstrated by pursing his lips and blowing, “Like you're blowing out a candle.”

 

Pietro was a little bewildered by this request, but did as told, “Good, now breathe in through your nose, then repeat. Concentrate more on breathing out, not in,” Tony said, following along.

 

They did this for several minutes, until Pietro didn't feel like he was about to crawl out of his skin, “What was that for?” he asked, leaning against the wall and slumping down to sit on the floor.

 

Tony crouched next to him, “You were having a panic attack, so I helped. That was a breathing exercise to get your breathing to even out. Breathe completely out and your lungs will automatically take a breath in. Tricks your brain out of the panic.”

 

Pietro shivered once, like a convulsion, “How did you know?”

 

Tony shrugged, “I know a panic attack when I see one. I get them sometimes, so I've picked up some tricks to deal with them.”

 

Pietro glanced up at him, “You get them?”

 

“Yeah, used to get them really bad,” Tony admitted, “They’ve mellowed out some, but I still get anxiety from time to time. Usually I go to Rhodey or Pepper or Steve when they happen,” he paused, “Do you want me to get Wanda for you?”

 

Pietro wanted to say no, but he desperately wanted to say yes too, “Yes,” he finally murmured, casting his eyes downward.

 

Tony hummed and got up, groaning, “Knees aren't what they used to be,” he said, seemingly to himself. He walked back to the kitchen where Pietro could faintly hear the chatter still going on.

 

Wanda appeared at his side a moment later, pulling him close to her and tangling her fingers in his hair, “Why didn't you tell me, you big dummy?”

 

Pietro buried his face in her shoulder, her hair tickling his nose, “You were with Vision,” he said, “I didn't want to disturb you.”

 

Wanda sighed, “Pietro, when it something like this, come to me.” She stroked his hair, “We cannot always be together, but we’re still twins.”

 

Pietro let out a long sigh and wrapped his arms around his sister’s smaller frame. She hummed tunelessly and rocked them slightly, reminiscent of the way their mother used to soothe them. He could feel himself calming and relaxing into her, the tension leaving his body.

 

“Let's stay in tomorrow, watch a movie,” Wanda suggested, “I can show you Star Wars.”

 

Pietro smiled, “Sounds fun.”

 

* * *

 

_ If you think you’ve won, little girl, you’re sorely mistaken. _

 

_ I won't be thwarted so easily. _

 

_ So enjoy your time for now. I’m a patient man, I can wait. _

 

_ But don't get too comfortable. _

 

_ There are other ways of getting what I want from you. _

 

_ I’m certain we will meet again in the future, Wanda Maximoff. _

 

_ Count on it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it! I wanted to end it with a slight opening for Mephisto to come back, since he is a rather steady adversary to Wanda in the comics. I also wanted to show that Pietro's anxieties aren't just going to go away like magic and he'll still need to work on it with Wanda.
> 
> Tony's trick for panic attacks is something that I personally use, and actually works pretty decently. Concentrate on breathing out and you automatically breathe in because your brain goes 'hey, you need to breathe in!' It also works for when you get knocked in the chest and get winded.
> 
> That's all folks!


End file.
